


Lathbora viran

by AeyeMenethes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adult Content, Angst, Complicated Relationships, Demons, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Lies, Magic, NSFW, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Past Memories, Possible Redemption of Solas, Post Trespasser, Secrets, Sex Magic, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Tags May Change, Tags for future use, Trespasser DLC, Violence, War, possible canon divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:51:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 58,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeyeMenethes/pseuds/AeyeMenethes
Summary: What is the old Elven curse 'May the Dread Wolf take you.'I was the first victim. (Solas)-- A year before the Inquisition was formed, an apostate elf by the name Solas ended his Uthenera to proceed with his Din'anshiral to break the Veil and restore the world of the Elvhen.  What he never expected was what would forever change him: Inquisitor Lavellan.This story is told in First Person through Solas as he is swept into the Inquisition and more importantly, in his growing feelings for its Inquisitor.  Also, there is a possible fan theory on the events to redeem Solas after Trespasser.Updates every weekend EST. Working on buffer for the bad weeks so it'll still update





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly just wanted to write in Solas' POV because I tend to write grim and fatalistic characters in my original fiction. Feel free to enjoy and leave comments.

Darkness swallowed up the world – cracking its structure into fragments – and the Fade cried out. The sundering shredded along my skin, blood and nerves, bringing a prickling of warm liquid to the corners of my eyes. In a snuff of a candle, lives beyond counting extinguished, reminding me of another day similar to this one in its passing.

The Veil stretched out before my eyes as a puckering scar still within the first hours of its making.

A sharp green glow stung my vision, drawing me toward the dead, and – on wobbly legs strained against a crudely shaped staff for support – I cut a path to the base of the mountain. Seeker Pentaghast would be waiting there with her soldiers just in case the Conclave went awry; though I doubted her forces could repair this. Echoes reached out first from the dead, and then the living, as I crossed the stone threshold into Haven.

“Follow.” The Seeker’s bark tore at my senses, and I caught her armored form tearing through onlookers in a mad dash. “Bring her.”

A small contingency of soldiers – no more than five – carried a lithe, limp body clad in ill-fitting clothing meant for comfort as much as camouflage. I stopped to watch them make their way to Haven’s Chantry and found myself rooted in two directions. Pressed one way toward the spirits drifting through the new vortex in the sky, and yet drawn to see who it was the Seeker and her men carried. A whimper tore at the back of my throat, more wolf than elf, but I forced my feet through the ankle deep snow. Numbness had replaced my uneasy relationship with the cold long ago until all I wore were the foot wraps, and not shoes, thankfully.

In the Chantry, people huddled – many in fervent prayers – both elven and human, while others wept openly and rent their clothing before the statues of a woman. I caught husky tones calling out her name as well as the name of their god – her lover – in supplication. Always the same no matter the era. In tragedy there was no division between race and class, just oneness in grief. Heavy smoke and incense from lit braziers of Andraste, and priestesses swinging pendulums belching fog permeated the room, deadening my senses further. In the haze, I could just barely make out the forms of the soldiers by the parting of the gathering crowd.

Seeker Pentaghast led her group down into the dungeons, and I slipped through the door behind them keeping to the shadows. Curiosity spurred my body despite still reeling from the sudden shock in the Fade. It happened while I visited the battle of the Hero of Ferelden against the former cultists who claimed Haven for a time. When the Fade buckled, I was shot out of the memory as if I became ice water thrown onto a blazing fire.

With the harsh reality of the living temporarily dampening my connection, I warred between terror and relief before resigning myself to present events. So many lives lost in a single second threatened to overwhelm me, and I touched my temple where I felt the tender blossoming of a headache beginning. It fluttered in tempo with my heartbeat – accelerated and shallow.

“Solas.”

Cassandra’s clipped tone as she spoke my name jarred me from thought, and I noticed her gaze hovering through the darkness in my direction. No reason existed adequate enough to excuse my hiding in the shadows like some Darkspawn Hurlok. Somehow I knew she was aware of that too. Curling my calloused palm tighter around the worn, leather binding of my staff, I took a tentative step into the torchlight. Cool eyes followed my movement, narrowing as I drew closer, but I dropped my gaze to regard the Seeker’s quarry.

A brow twitched and my jaw ticked as I saw a bloodless face, strained and slick with sweat. Gaunt from a lifetime of rationed meals and hard work. Refined, delicate features lay beneath a thick layer of blood and gore – most of which did not appear to belong to them – seized and jerked in pain and fevered dreaming. Curiosity gripped me again, and I knelt beside the prone figure careful not to touch them. Yet.

Precaution and, perhaps, warding were needed before I proceeded.

“What happened, Seeker?” I asked, wincing slightly at the hoarse whisper of my voice, though I doubted the human saw anything past a crease of my brow.

The question, however, sparked something in the woman’s eyes. Anger? Hatred? And she stabbed a finger upward – presumably at the sky beyond – her nostrils flaring. “Are you daft, _elf_? Did you not just see what happened to the sky… to all those…”

 _People._ I finished silently but said aloud, “Even the blind can see the sky now, Seeker. I ask after the condition of this person.”

Pulling herself to her full height, Cassandra folded her arms just under the indent of the breastplate she wore. The way she puckered her lips into a frown tore at the scar down her cheek, as if opening the old wound, though only in illusion. “Many are dead or wounded so it shouldn’t surprise you that I bring one into the Chantry.”

I gave her a flat stare, letting her know I would neither back down from my inquiry nor fall for her baited trap. She couldn’t place the blame of whatever happened at the Conclave on my shoulders. I wasn’t even near the mountain top when that magic rent the sky asunder. Instead, I thumbed at my temple again, feeling the dull ache now throbbing. “Cassandra, I am only surprised you chose the cell of a dungeon as your base of operations when your patient requires healing.”

The ichor in her eyes simmered, and I felt the heat of her emotions fan over me. I braced for the inevitable boiling that usually accompanied her tirades, but her face softened to show a momentary lapse into sorrow. It hardened just as quickly.

“Save her, Solas.” Cassandra’s command was tinged with a warning. “She is the only one who survived the explosion at the Conclave. I want answers.”

Again my eyes slipped down to the unconscious woman, and feather light shivers ran down me as I saw the strange curls of greenish mana lacing her tattered body – congregating particularly around her left hand. It felt so familiar and nauseating. Wrong. Reaching forward – knowing what I would find, but needing confirmation all the same – I picked up the hand and turned it over, tracing a dispassionate gaze transversely on the glowing fissure carved into her palm. I forgot about the want for wards the instant the puzzle pieces fell into place.

 _Mine._ There was no mistaking the Mark’s origins or how it came to be on this woman’s flesh. Now, however, was not the appropriate time to explain my knowledge of it. Not when admittance would beset the fangs of these rabid dogs down on me. I couldn’t fend off their onslaught in my current state. Soon, but…

Setting down the hand, I looked up to see the Seeker sneering, but with a questioning gleam in her eye. “You would do well to get a mage who excels at healing magic, perhaps Adan. My magic is better suited--”

“By the Maker!” Cassandra grasped her hand around my bicep and jerking me upward, the metal from her gauntlet biting through the cloth of my tunic to the skin underneath. Her face was mere inches from mine and – when she spoke – her breath clung to me hot, and damp. Uncomfortable. “This isn’t a request so you better succeed, Solas. Not just for her sake but yours.”

A growl pushed its way out of my nose, and I yanked my arm free, more annoyed that it would bruise, than angry about how she handled me. If our positions were reversed, I might’ve done the same thing were I a millennia or two younger. I didn’t blame her for her brusque manner. Fear laced behind those dark eyes not used to having the situation ripped from her control.

I pinched the bridge of my nose to ward off a crashing wave of dizziness from my newfound headache. Then gave a soft sigh. “I can promise nothing but to try.”

Gesturing to one of the soldiers with a slight nod of her head, the man slipped out a sword from the scabbard at his waist, and pointed it at me. Inches from my chest. A part of me laughed at the act. If I was a little stronger I would have actually laughed out loud, but I just rocked back on my heels, and returned my attention to my new charge.

“See that you do, apostate.” Cassandra seethed through clenched teeth then turned on her heels, and left me with her soldiers – swords trained on me – and the pitiful, collapsed creature on the flagstone.

A sick feeling washed over me. Underground, the voices of the dead and dying – of the torn Veil and Fade demons spewing from the green hole in the sky – all were muffled and niggled at the edges of my suddenly weary mind. Except one. I sidled the woman's limp body onto my lap for better access, and called forth what healing magic I possessed.

The mana itched to the surface of my skin through veins and nerve endings alight by the rush of raw energy. All at once sensations of dread and arousal blanketed me as it did every time I summoned up my magic. Maybe it was the Veil filtering and dampening my connection that brought about these unpleasant emotions because they were never present before the Veil’s creation. But now I found I couldn’t deny my body the urgent addiction the very act of magic brought. Pushing down the ill-conceived thoughts into the precipices of my mind to pick apart later, I concentrated on the matter at hand.

Grasping onto the mana with a sharp, calculated tug, I guided it into the unconscious woman, watching her body pull onto the streams of faint light like it was dying of thirst. Working through the intricate system of a living creature came with some resistance, but in such a weakened state, I batted it aside with little effort.

The Mark on her left hand flared to life, and I felt it reach out trying to choke me. I cast a barrier around myself, and continued grafting the healing magic onto the areas she hurt the most. Her body was scorched and dry in so many places, and the healing soaked her like a wet balm along her desert planes. I hummed gently under my breath as I worked to knit flesh and restore blood. And when the blood and gore receded from her face, I looked upon her as if truly seeing her for the first time, and I gasped. 

Inside me, the Wolf stirred.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Closing the Breach the first time and introductions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is all in Solas' POV, I believe the audience will be privy to his thoughts and emotions. Since it's not new or spoiling that he's Fen'Harel, I don't see how he'd avoid thinking or reacting to things normal for him. He considers the current predicament his fault and won't shirk such blame.
> 
> Also, if you have questions about how I've written the feeling of magic feel free to ask. I've decided to make it more intimate but different than what Solas was used to it feeling like before the Veil. Therefore he finds it rather annoying.
> 
> I update this every Friday EST.

## Chapter Two

Rays of emerald shot down as lightning splintering when it hit the ground, and from its smoke two spectral figures of the same colour materialized feet from our group. The Durgen’len wasted no time launching a hail of arrows from his crossbow upon the spirits, and they evaporated on contact. Four more replaced them.

My flesh rose as the magic surfaced, and I channelled it through my staff into a burst of green light at the crystal tip before sending it into the spectres. They too disappeared. Still more popped into visibility, falling from the tear in the space before us. It mimicked the monstrous hole in the sky except more immediate, and its intense heat licked at both skin and coat, tugging me toward the rift. It would suck me into the Fade if I allowed it. Though tempting it was to see what the other side looked like, I knew that wasn’t the wisest course of action. Especially with Seeker Pentaghast worried I knew more than I let on.

She wasn’t wrong, but the truth was far more complex than her understanding could grasp.

“There’s no end to them, Chuckles.” Varric Tethras called over the howling wind produced by the rift.

I grimaced at the Durgen’len’s atrocious misplaced nickname he insisted on calling me. He mocked me, and if it wasn’t his nature to do so with everyone he crossed, I might have casted a spell to deter him from the action in the future.

Instead, I added a comment of my own. “Maybe you should ask that rift to stop. I’m sure it would listen.”

Varric barked his laughter before knocking another bolt into his crossbow.

A crack of lightning whipped past me striking a brown demon as it prepared to claw me. This lightning was blue-white – a proper colour – and disintegrated the demon with a hiss. I turned to thank whatever mage just joined the fray, and the words stuck in my throat. My jaw slipped open enough that anyone standing near me would see the surprise. The shock – so hard – it made me freeze as I stared up at a beautiful and terrible sight.

It was her. Cassandra’s prisoner with the Seeker in tow at her heels.

An insistent and angry erection – set off by the use of my magic – pulled toward the raven haired elf even before she stopped dangerously by my side. Her heat suffocated me. I needed to do something before I burned up. Electricity crackled behind me, pouring an eerie, green glow over her delicate face – highlighting the turquoise vallaslin tattooed along high-cheekbones – and granting me the opportunity I needed to test the risky idea. My only salvation.

“Quickly, before more come through!” Grabbing her thin wrist – wincing at the savagery of my force – I thrust the green scarred Mark at the damned rift.

Light shot from her left hand to connect to the heart of the rift itself. My stomach lurched, the familiar sick feeling returned and with it a thousand screams, sparking the beginnings of another headache. They were starting more and more frequently since the Conclave. Her hand jerked in mine, quivering from the power of the rift as it fought the connection and magic. It was over in two breaths, its shockwave ripped the woman’s hand from mine.

“What did you do?” A soft, feminine voice asked, sending a shiver throughout my body.

If not for a millennia of careful practice, the overwhelming sensation from the demons trying to force their way into this world would've collapsed me. The addicting caress of that voice alone nearly broke through that training. The thrumming inside my head would no doubt get worse before this night was over, but at least one thing went right since the sky blew up. The prisoner lived as did my Mark.

“I did nothing. The credit is yours.” I gestured with a slight pull on my lips.

“You mean this?” She glanced down at her scarred palm and my eyes followed, brief enough no one noticed.

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized that mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake – and it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.” Cassandra surmised, approaching us to stand by the prisoner.

 _Yes._ “Possibly.” I turned to stare at the elven mage, and noted the light dusting of freckles hidden beneath the slave tattoo. And those blue eyes – “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

She smiled.

“Good to know! Here I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” Varric spoke, straightening his leather gloves.

Both the woman and Cassandra turned to speak to the Durgen’len allowing me time to relax the pinch between my shoulder blades. Then I reached down and ground the heel of my palm along my traitorous cock, trying desperately to reorient my senses. The wordless screams were present, like the echoes of the dying when the first explosion happened. Walking closer to the Breach would amplify them exponentially. My ear tips pricked up at something the prisoner said, drawing my attention back to the trio.

“You may reconsider that stance. In time.” I commented as I understood her words.

Varric pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aww. I’m sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles.”

I raised an eyebrow at the nickname. _Unlikely._ Especially if he so conveniently forgot to use my name. Blessedly, their attention turned from me as Cassandra and Varric returned to the same argument they’d been having since the explosion at the Conclave.

Another reprieve.

Thankfully, the erection was softening quickly, and so I stopped applying pressure. Pulling the edges of my tunic until it covered the slight half-hard bulge, I rubbed two fingers in a circular motion on my temple. I resisted calling magic if only because I didn’t want to be aroused again with the heat of her body this close to mine.

She smelled of lilies, elfroot, with a hint of cedarwood, and my nostrils flared to get a taste of the heady concoction.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you live.” I needed to speak to keep from acting on unsavoury desires.

 _Very pleased._ The beast inside growled, but I offered only a small, polite smile to the elven lass.

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.’”

_No one else was strong in magic or knew how, Durgen’len._

“You seem to know a great deal about it all.” The prisoner said with a gesture.

Her answer was far more pleasing.

“Like you, Solas is an apostate.” Cassandra replied, tossing me a snide glare.

“Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra.” I corrected, revelling in the scowl her lips made before turning my gaze back to a more appealing sight. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experiences of any Circle mage.”

Though anyone would know by the vallaslin that she was Dalish, a shiver of recognition bolted up my spine. She was the First to her Keeper. At that moment I wanted to throttle Deshana for a foolish move, but I continued with the ruse.

“I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin.”

True as my words were, I did briefly wonder if letting the Breach expand wouldn’t make some of my plans easier. The thought was cast quickly aside. Torn like this, the Fade may very well kill the spirits who lived there – or drive them insane. I wouldn’t risk them to such a mad plan. What was Corypheus thinking?

“That’s a commendable attitude.” The elven lass said.

“Merely a sensible one, although sense appears to be in short supply right now.” _Like Cassandra. Speaking of_ – “Cassandra--”

I turned to see her frowning, but she replaced her mask upon seeing me. We both mastered the game of deception well, and I respected her enough not to bring attention to her slip. “You should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”

“Understood.” She nodded. “We must get to the forward camp quickly.”

Giving the elven woman one glance over my shoulder, I turned and followed Seeker Pentaghast.

 

**. . .**

 

Voices.

Echoes.

Death.

Narrowing my eyes up at the Breach – largest of all the rifts – I cursed Corypheus for not dying. He should’ve died unlocking my orb and yet…

Lilies crossed my path, heating up my face until my ears tingled. The excessive use of my magic heightened such forbidden and brash desires that it hurt to look at her, but I managed. The throbbing of my head matched the racing of my heart, and I prayed to end this quickly. If only for a semblance of balance, and peace.

As she raised her hand to reopen the Breach to be sealed properly, and the electricity singing in the air pulled to me, beckoning that I take hold of it. It was my original plan. Now Corypheus –

A loud popping, followed by a demonic scream, snapped my head toward the creature easily towering over us five times. Not wasting breath, I summoned my mana to the surface – ignoring the itch – and thrust it into the knotted staff I carried. Shouts and arrows bandied about all aimed to contain the demon, to send it back. I sprinted to join the fray, mostly relieved to do something other than stare at the elven mage.

Ashes and smoke blackened the air making breathing tricky and painful. Plated boots kicked up dirt, stinging the eyes thereby causing more chaos among the soldiers as visibility waned. I growled at their panic, raising my free hand to shield half-lidded eyes from the dust as I strained to catch the hint of scale or fin. Hopefully before a claw found my stumbling. Each voice blended in with the madness, and it wasn’t the first time I wondered how humans survived through any war at all. Their warfare, I found, seriously wanting.

White-blue lightning split through the dirt clouds, arcing over my head and I froze, momentarily deafened from its roar. My eyes blinked and widened, the breath catching in my throat. A lithe body sprang from the chaos landing on the tips of her toes, twirling a wooden staff in nimble fingers. Touching the ground, the elf leapt and twisted in the air sending another wave of electricity into the main demon’s shadow. Not even a single pebble shifted disturbed by her movement. The ground merely sighed and bent to cushion her before she took flight.

Flitting through the throng of soldiers, I memorized the impressive, graceful dance. Even her shadow carried a life of its own. I became a pair of eyes – her only audience.

Then a hollow howl behind me reminded me of our present situation. I turned and cracked my staff on a smaller demon’s head, blasting a second with a jolt from the staff’s sphere. A deafening cry – full of agony and defeat – raised the delicate hairs along the nap of my neck. A death cry. Puncturing the stomach of a stubborn demon with the blade mounted on the bottom of my staff, I stared up witnessing the monstrous demon fall to the ground – the prisoner having dealt its final blow.

Behind me, the Breach hissed in anger, flaring before fanning out wide as if preparing for another, stronger assault.

“Seal it!” I called to her, not wanting to know what else waited to get through.

Turning, the elf sprinted toward me, blue eyes wide with terror, her face speckled with blood and gore. Without word she thrust her hand upward, and as before, light connected Mark to Breach.

Shrill screams brought me staggering and I braced against my staff. It felt as if my head would sunder and I clawed one side, focusing all my being to glare at the Breach. It must close. If only I had been stronger, and didn’t need that wretched Tevinter Magister.

_Fenedhis!_

Fire tore through me and I fought to not let my injuries show. No one knew about the link and I didn’t trust them to understand. Waking from the Uthenera would be for naught if I fell here. As the moments lengthened, my brows knitted and rose with the bile in my stomach. Why was it taking too long?

“Fenedhis lasa!” _Too weak!_

Despair filtered through my thoughts, gripped my heart in a vice. Every pore of magic sang a dirge to the surface wanting, begging to return home to the Fade. I pulled back even as my body bent to its knees.

_Not again… another people… damned because of me._

This time the pop clapped the air and flung it, and us, away. Falling backwards, I skidded over rocks and temple debris. Crashing into a crumbling wall then through it, I felt the beast snarl and recoil. It begged release harder than all my magic but I stayed its paws. My skull was splitting like a raw wound and I felt thick, warm liquid slide down the side of my head, near my ear, over the spot it throbbed most prominent.

Groaning, I pushed the stone bits from my chest and lap feeling more than stiffened muscles, but stayed laying on my back. For a moment, I stared up at the sky wondering if the clouds still swirled or if that was me. After a few steady breaths paused the spinning world, I rolled onto my side then to my knees. Bracing myself on all fours, I pushed to stand – squeezing my eyes shut to ward away dizziness. A haziness settled in my stomach and my legs swayed. I pressed the flat of my palm on what was left of the wall and concentrated to swallow down the nausea.

When the sensation passed I opened my eyes.

Dust.

Rubble.

Bodies, most only stunned –

_Her._

Forgetting that I felt hedged by unconsciousness minutes prior, I bolted toward the elven mage’s prone body. Blood and dirt coated her face just as it did when she started to close the Breach, only now I noticed much belonged to her. A dozen cuts and bruises glistened and puckered along her face, neck and arms. The tears and fraying of her overly large tunic suggested more beneath. What skin was free of the bloom of blood looked sallow and sweat-soaked. Kneeling beside her, I took her into my lap as I had in Haven’s dungeons. What possessed me I couldn’t tell, but my heart clenched at the thought we did indeed kill her.

I killed her.

Warm breath pushed through her slightly parted, very swollen lips. It wasn’t until my heart stuttered and a painful hitch forced out a gasp that I noticed I stopped breathing. I moved a sticky, wet black strand of hair from her closed eyes, hooking it behind a long, slender ear tip. My knuckles brushed the thin, tapered point igniting a fire in my stomach that was very much not from my magic.

“Solas?”

Letting out another slow breath to cool the sudden flare of desire, I glanced up at Cassandra once I felt more composed. She stared down with a curious glint in her eyes and raised brows. Blood and sweat glistened on her face as well, but she seemed more unaffected by the fight. Probably her training under the Seekers.

Tucking the elf into my arms, close to my chest, I took to my feet – slow and careful – so not to jostle the unconscious woman.

“She lives, but Adan should prepare poultices. Rest is what she needs, Cassandra.” I said, handing the prisoner reluctantly over the warrior.

I made no outward display and kept all muscles in my face relaxed. With a quiet grunt, I picked up my staff from where it fell – pleased to see that it hadn’t snapped in half from the force – and stared up at the scar of the Breach. How long would it hold? Would we have time to catch Corypheus and recover my orb?

“Seeker,” I threw a glance over my shoulder to see a perplexed looked on Cassandra’s face as she stared at her sleeping prisoner. One corner of my lip twitched, threatening to pull into a smile, but I held it at bay. Instead, I continued with my question if only to keep all suspicious eyes of any possible relationship from me. “What is your prisoner’s name?”

Cassandra nearly dropped her charge when she realized I hadn’t left yet. My thighs coiled and energy crackled on my fingertips ready to do whatever I could to keep the woman who just saved us from further harm. The Seeker’s fast reflexes caught the prisoner before she even dropped a foot, but I heard a pained moaned. My brow twitched in annoyance.

Cassandra tossed me an all too familiar glare. “Don’t do that, Solas. Maker! If I--” Her voice dropped off killing the threat, with an answer to my question in its place. “Ellana Lavellan.”

“Ellana Lavellan.” I tasted her name on my lips, and it rekindled the cloying arousal. “Thank you.”

I retreated into the shadows and down the mountain. Right then I desperately needed to be rid of all the sights, smells… people. Alone with the bitter wind clawing at my tunic instead of demons. I took a shuddering breath of icy air. The beast gnashed at me wanting something different – something I was greatly against.

“Ir abelas, Ellana Lavellan.” I whispered over my shoulder before I retreated into the snow and darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhen Translation:
> 
> Fenedhis - Untranslated curse word
> 
> Fenedhis lasa - An expansion on Fenedhis, common curse word
> 
> Ir abelas - I'm sorry


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas begins to weave his plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm now illustrating the fanfic as well though hesitant about sharing the pictures on here. If you have questions or want to see them, I am @aeyemenethes on Tumblr. Thanks.

**Chapter Three**

Haven drifted in a tizzy – one day quiet – the next, madness. In that time its owners changed hands, until only a few members of the Chantry remained, defying the consensus to abandon their faithful in this snow trap. The bulk of its citizens formed a fledgling order under the personal edict of the former Divine called the Inquisition.

Ironic since, judging by the bulk of its army and barking Commander, I doubted much in the form of questioning would actually take place.

After the events at the Temple of Sacred Ashes – as the humans called it – I distanced myself from the members of the Inquisition and its Herald. Adan notified me when Ellana regained consciousness and the decision behind the title, Herald of Andraste, she inherited. Those first days I watched her between rounds of gathering elfroot for Adan, trying to fill my eyes with enough of her to sate my more carnal nature, and force it a common enough sight that her presence wouldn’t evoke lust. The Inquisition kept her blessedly distant, and I found it easier to keep a steady composure.

Then one day in the calm of the morning, and a filling breakfast of fresh bread and a meaty broth, the Herald of Andraste approached me. Curiosity sparkled in her sharp gaze and a bemused smile curled along full lips, so pink and healthy. A more pleasing look than the state I last saw her up close.

“Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all.” I turned to stare at her with a calm mask in place.

The winter chill kept the colour from my cheeks as I noticed a strand of her hair had worked free from its braid and fluttered in her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear, giving me a dazzling smile.

“Am I riding on a shining steed?” She laughed, soft and bell-like.

Keeping my gaze on her face, I retained practiced neutrality though I did enjoy the thought of her riding on anything that conjured in my mind. “I would’ve suggested a griffin, but sadly they’re extinct. Joke as you will, posturing is necessary.”

Turning, I took a few steps to look out at the expanse of rock and thatched buildings under a blanket of snow. Such was Haven. I brushed some cold flakes from my lashes, pleased to see the Herald still standing beside me. So unlike –

“I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade and ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clashed to re-enact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten.” This one would no doubt join its ranks once the ending was written.

I faced her again, noticing the faint crease of her brow and twinkling curiosity misting her eyes. “Every war has its heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be.”

_Some heroes are painted as villains._

Instead of answering my unasked question, Ellana’s eagerness burst and bombarded me with a flood of her own questions. About the Fade and what I saw; if I set wards or not and what were the nature of the spirits I found in my wanderings. It was difficult not to smile at her enthusiasm. It was so refreshing. Humans feared the unknown, branding it unholy to their Maker before properly analysing it. They missed opportunities to expand and grow. Durgen’len weren’t much better, always married to their crumbling thaigs and rotting Ancestors. Even most Dalish I met on my travels turned deaf to my knowledge, trusting that they alone knew about the true Elvhen people. Ellana was unlike the others and it piqued a stronger interest than my carnal desires for her flesh.

It fortified a decision in me as I looked back at the humans walking about Haven. “I will stay. At least until the Breach is closed.”

“Was that in doubt?” Ellana quipped, a scarce smile tugging up one corner of her brow causing my stomach to flip.

Reminding me that – in case I forgot – I still found this woman desirous. Though the danger lay in her knowing.

“I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces, and – unlike you – I do not have a divine mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution.” If I possessed more than a sliver of my true strength I would be anywhere far from here. That would probably make the Inquisition my enemy; still might end up that way later on once Corypheus was dealt with.

At least being a temporary ally afforded me time and resources to plunder their weaknesses while placing my own network of spies at its heart. By the time this twisted, gnarled root was uncovered, the Inquisition wouldn’t know where their influence ended and mine began. Such was the way of things.

“You came here to help, Solas. I won’t let them use that against you.” She spoke with a sincere expression.

My heart thudded in response though my lips spoke my mind. “How would you stop them?”

“However I had to.”

The finality to her tone gave me pause. She barely knew me passed my name, and yet she decided to stake much in my freedom. I felt my gaze soften with the steady rise of my heart.

“Thank you.” I said honestly. “But for now let us hope that either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the Breach.”

My jaw twitched seeing how Ellana glanced at me as if I told her to dock her ears and parade about as a human. She didn’t say anything in regards to my comment and – after a moment or two of awkward silence – the elven mage dipped her head and left. My eyes followed the sway of her lips until she disappeared into the tavern.

_She’s not for you, Solas._

 _I know._

Though both voices were mine, I felt obligated to remind the Wolf within. Otherwise I risked bounding after her to lay with her until neither of us could walk days afterward. It had been too long since I gave into my desires, and I needed to keep it to the fantasies of the Fade. This was entirely too complex and important a plan to mess it up with infatuation.

“Solas?” Adan poked his head out of the makeshift apothecary he fashioned from a deserted cabin next to mine. “Are you busy?”

“No.” I answered in a simple, polite tone.

“Can you get more elfroot? Every other elf I send don’t know elfroot from embrium.” Adan screwed up his eyes in a ridiculous fashion probably meant for confusion or frustration.

“They are hardly similar, even in appearance.” I gave a flat stare, shifting my staff from one hand to the other. I stroked my chin in thought then nodded. “Very well, I’ll gather some.”

Taking off toward the more wilderness half of Haven, I changed from a rushed pace to a more relaxed stroll. Gathering the elfroot gave me an excuse to lose myself in thought far from the noise humans produced. In the deep of the forest I felt calm, almost tranquil, and was free to be alone.

As I was picking the tenth elfroot stalk, the wind shifted bringing a blood of oakmoss and sandalwood to my nostrils. I stood, my ears twitching at the barely audible crunch of grass underneath a straw sole.

“You moved faster than I expected.” I spoke in a hushed, guarded tone and twisted around peering at the two elves who manifested from the dense foliage.

Their green eyes widened as spooked deer, and the colour fled from their ruddy cheeks. They wore a sackcloth tunic, leggings combination as was expected for kitchen elves and darted their heads from side to side expecting someone to cuff them for boldness. The male – a year or two out of boyhood – took a tentative step forward, pushing the girl behind him.

He narrowed his eyes, assessing my simple tan, green tunic and breeches, basket of elfroot cradled in the crook of my elbow, and gnarled wooden staff clutched in loose fingers. A deep frown creased several lines in his brow and the pucker of his lips highlighted a jagged scar cut deep along the bottom. Upon seeing my eyes, his pupils blew and he staggered to his knees.

“Fen’H--”

“None of that here.” I cut him off before he could finish that name. “Stand up.”

A flinch of hesitation further pinched his features but he stood with great reluctance and pulled at the fraying hem of his tunic. My gaze ran over the pair noting how underfed they were at the waist and hollows of their cheeks. I did require a few more servants stationed at Haven, but doubted the pair would last out the winter if called to. Still, it took weeks to get a message through by fennec fox – and Leliana watched the skies – so for now, I would find a use for them.

“You are no longer slaves in the Imperium, and I expect you both to remember that. I’ll make sure you get more food. All I ask is that you report everything you see and hear in regards to the Inquisition and, especially, the Herald of Andraste.” I made my voice firm, but with a gentle tone they might associate with falon. “To myself.”

The woman looked toward the male and nodded only when he did.

“Very well, follow me.” I didn’t wait to see if they would, more like expected them to do so.

Taking Haven’s crumbling stairs – two steps at a time – I passed Cassandra and Varric in conversation. They stopped and I felt their eyes upon me as I passed them walking straight into the Chantry. Depositing the new servants, I moved to make my way to Adan with the baskets of elfroot only to run into the wide eyes of the Seeker and Durgen’len.

“I wasn’t aware that you brought your own serving staff with you, Solas.” Cassandra thrust her arm out, palm flat against the stone wall to keep me from leaving the Chantry. “Are they for the kitchen?”

I shifted on my other hip and pressed my back against the stone. A chill pierced through the fabric of my tunic, sinking into my flesh. The icy contact pushed out a hiss from my lips, and her comment neatly folded into my recovery plan for the situation.

Allowing a small smile to pull up one corner of my lips, I relaxed into the cold. “Who better to make sure regular deep mushrooms are not swapped out with truth mushrooms? If you think Varric’s stories are scandalous now, you should hear what he really thinks about your fledgling Inquisition.”

“Why, Chuckles, I didn’t know you were listening…” Beside her, Varric propped a hip against the Chantry door with a bemused purse to his lips. “But you never know, Cassandra might actually like to hear it too, seeing as she wanted me to entertain the Divine with my outlandish tales.”

Cassandra began to protest but threw up her hands when I cut her off.

Pinching the bridge of my nose to sooth the mild irritation of smelling the heavy alcohol on Varric’s breath, I kept my voice light. “I’ll keep that in mind. Regardless, Adan has mentioned his current assistants aren’t skilled enough in herbs so I felt I could help. They are… friends.”

Cassandra’s brow twitched, and I was sure that she caught the slight change in tone at ‘friends’ but, to much relief, she didn’t move to address it. Instead, she folded her arms across her breastplate with a wrinkle of her nose. “Ugh! No thanks Varric… Solas… Just keep them away from my food.”

I managed a hollow snort at her comment, just as practiced, when in our debates many times over. “Noted.” Then I skirted around the two of them, my free hand curled over the large brass ring handle of the Chantry’s door. “I’ll handle your food, personally, Seeker.”

Sunlight bathed me pushing flurries of snow along my skin to sooth my face. Inside, I heard Varric laughing hard, summoning up the image of him bowed with hands pressed against his knees letting loose as the guffaws suggested. Cassandra was berating him but I was too far to hear her exact words. A few heads lifted to watch me go – all elven with faces devoid of vallaslin – as if watching for a slight signal from my eyes or body. I kept my stride languid, my posture eased and did not directly acknowledge any of them. Their glances lasted seconds, playing off as natural as any might act if someone passed close by. People – regardless of origin – carried an innately inquisitive nature that I exploited.

At Adan’s cottage, I pushed the door open to see the healer and Herald of Andraste. They were talking about various herbs as she divulged to him what she came across many times in the Wycome forest. Heat slowly crept up my cheeks as my heart skipped a rebel beat. I cleared my throat to regain control over several lecherous thoughts.

“Ah, Solas.” Ellana smiled wide, sending a spike of fire to melt all the muscles in my body. It would only take one touch to shatter the fragile barriers on the faculties I possessed at that moment.

I was grateful she only bridged a smidgen of the gap between where I stood at the door’s threshold and herself. She stopped at the middle of the room, casting a glance down at the basket full of elfroot I cared. I stiffened my leg muscles to keep from fidgeting like a boy barely into his adolescence years.

“Good to see someone other than myself helping poor Adan in Haven.” She scrunched her pert nose, releasing a playful laugh.

My eyes moved over her body, my fingers ached to feel her skin again wanting to remember its warm, silky texture. I placed my free hand on the basket handle, regretting that I leaned my staff on the wall of my cottage moments before entering. Stroking the finger pads along the smooth, wood grain would have to suffice.

_Just don’t come any closer._

“If our healer – even temporary – is not adequately supplied, we might end up focusing on constructing enough coffins. I suspect sealing the Breach would call many to sacrifice their lives otherwise.” I heard the waver in my voice, but Ellana didn’t seem to catch it.

Or if she had, she blessedly let me save face by not pressing my condition.

I didn’t know what lie to give her if she asked, or even if I could make something up in the thick of this type of interrogation.

“Let me help you with that, Solas.” Ellana asked, closing the distance to an arm’s span apart.

I danced to the side, walking toward Adan’s table before she finished saying my name. “I can handle this, Herald. Besides, I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to.”

“Actually,” she turned her body and my eyes caught the sashay of her hips as she moved. So graceful. “It is a matter that made me seek you out. Adan was telling me where you’d gone.”

 _Of course you need me._ I cursed my luck, but offered her a polite smile.

“What can I do for you?” I placed the basket down before nodding to Adan.

Ellana backpedalled to the door, gesturing me to follow her outside. Clasping my hands behind my back, I walked after her to stand next to my wooden cabin. Her eyes flicked over knotted staff against the outside wall then back at me, a nervous touch in her eyes.

A pink flush rose to her cheeks and I caught her eyes running up and down my body. She tried to be discreet, and I let her pretend she was. Such a simple motion stiffened me and I worked a hand along my forearm then bicep, pretending to work kinks out from carrying the basket. She couldn’t notice my want and trepidation. It would end badly.

_Can’t you see the poison I am to you? Stop making me want this infection._

“Are you hurt, Solas?” Concern reflected in her voice and my heart twanged.

“Merely sore.” I brought my arms down to my sides as the heat passed and I regained control over myself. “What do you wish to speak about?”

“Well,” her eyes grew serious, meeting my own. “I was asked by Seeker Cassandra, Leliana, Cullen and Lady Josephine to venture to the Hinterlands to meet with a Chantry Cleric by the name of Mother Giselle.”

My brow quirked. “Are you worried this meeting might sour?”

“They reassured me it won’t but,” she looked down at her boots as she gathered her question. “They want me to take a team in case there is trouble. I wondered if you might consider coming with me.”

Inwardly, I grimaced though kept up a neutral mask in place on the outside. “You are a mage, Herald, why would you want another when a second sword option might be the wiser course?”

The pink deepened to red, now engulfing her face to the tips of her ears and brought the map of freckles to stand vibrant on the surface. Still, she avoided eye contact and I mused at how terrible she was with subtlety.

_Some things never change, Lethallan…_

“We need a better healer than me, just in case. I excel at electrical and frost elements, and Seeker Cassandra… she told me you healed my wounds.”

 _Thank you, Cassandra._ I sighed but couldn’t refute the fact even if it was only due to the Mark being of my magic. “I’ll think on it, Herald.”

Her face lit up and she beamed at me – no longer caring how red she was. “Ma serannas, Solas. Oh, and my name is Ellana, please use that. I’m not fond of Herald.”

My breath hitched in my throat wanting nothing more than to rut with her like a beast under the stars. Without meaning to, this woman was unravelling me with simple gestures and kind words. Again.

“Another thing to consider.” I stated with a dip of my head. Then I cleared my throat and excused myself into the safety of my cabin.

Closing the door, I propped against it knowing I left my staff outside but not chancing to go after it when she might still be near.

_These feelings should’ve cooled by now…_

Sliding down to the floor, I touched the angry bulge that was not created by magic, but by a gorgeous face. I hissed at the stimulation a light brush of my knuckles did.  
“Fenedhis… you’ll undo me, Ellana Lavellan.”

At least now I was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Tresspasser Solas admits to bringing agents and spies into the Inquisition so I decided I would highlight this. I plan to do more as I weave threads of his planning deep into the Inquisition forces.
> 
>  
> 
> Elvish Translation -
> 
> Lethallan - Reference for someone with whom one is familiar. I.e. clansman. Lethallan is used for females while Lethallin is used for males.
> 
> Falon - Friend


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginnings of the Hinterlands...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A touch NSFW

The last Templar fell allowing the able-bodied at the Crossroads to gather up their injured. Varric crossed to each fallen body to wrench his crossbow bolts out of their various marks and Cassandra strode close to the Herald. My eyes followed Ellana as she approached a dark-skinned woman clad in Chantry robes. Mother Giselle.

Electricity arced along the nerve endings in my body, snapping and crackling over my newly bloodied knuckles. A familiar tug on my groin persisted driving me to assist in the clean-up to keep from thinking about the growing irritation. Creators! Was I ever going to adjust to the new sensations of magic? I couldn’t just desist the use of it. Magic was akin to breathing for me and to not use it was abhorrent and unnatural.

I glanced up to where Ellana spoke to the Chantry Cleric and I wondered at how inappropriate it might be asking what sensations passed through her whenever she called up her magic. My cock stiffened at the prospect of such a meeting and I wrinkled my nose, slamming my palm into the offending organ.

“Are you hurt, Serrah?” A lightly accented voice asked behind me.

Turning, my eyes locked onto the elf’s amber ones and hers widened. She open her mouth to speak, but I placed a finger to my lips giving a curt shake of my head. “Just cracked my knuckles over a templar’s pauldron; it will heal. Thank you for asking.”

Dipping my head in a respectful gesture, I swept past her keeping the smile from my lips. Good, they managed to set up here as well.

“Mother Giselle is insisting that we approach the Chantry in Orlais. She believes that some might be willing to talk.” Ellana said, stepping down the stone steps leading to the thatch roofed cottage whose outside doubled as an infirmary.

“Do you believe they will listen?” Varric asked, a dry click sounded as he folded the arms of the crossbow into the body, and slid it back in the holster slung over his shoulder.

“It would do well to try. The Breach is the pressing issue.”

A small smile twitched my bottom lip and I nodded toward Ellana, saying. “We should also help these people since they cannot go anywhere else.”

“Can’t they?” Cassandra objected, staring all around us at the few crumbling huts the refugees set up as their base of operations. “The Hinterlands is too dangerous.”

“This is their home, Seeker.” Varric scoffed, waving his hands through the air gesturing to include the entire camp. “Where would you have them go?”

They quickly broke into debating better areas of relocation giving me an opportunity to slip away without annoying questions being asked. Meager fields where the refugees attempted to grow wheat drew my attention and, by a crude straw scarecrow, I noticed an elf chopping at a stubborn stalk in vain.

“Did you get it?” I asked in a low tone directed to the elf as they wrapped the stalk fragments into a thin bundle.

They lifted their head in slow ease as practiced, nodded and slipped a roll of parchment into my waiting palm. Slipping the ribbon off, I unrolled it, read its contents then tucked it into the side pocket of my backpack. No one ever checked my belongings.

“Ma serannas.” I pressed two gold coins into the top of their wheat bundle, smirking when they plucked the coins free and stuffed them in their apron.

As I turned the bend, I almost ran into Ellana and she frowned, her brows furrowing.

“Where did you take off to, Solas?”

“Surveying the area, seeing what might need immediate action.” I wrinkled my brows, drawing on a deep frown in thought. “The fields are dead, the refugees’ clothing are threadbare. If none of this is addressed many will not live passed a fortnight.”

For several moments, Ellana considered my face as if trying to dig deep for the lies underneath. I kept my mask of concern in rigid place. Neither Varric nor Cassandra were close by yet giving me time to act if Ellana proved an obstacle to remove. I could fabricate a story to the human and dwarf if it came to that, but I hoped it wouldn’t. My heart skipped in an erratic pattern at the thought of harming the elven mage. 

Ellana’s gaze moved beyond me to the corner of the fields I just came from. Her frown deepened. “The Crossroads does look pathetic. Cassandra told me Corporal Vale – just at the top of this hill – will know what these refugees need. Was that where you were?”

I followed where her finger pointed and shook my head. “Didn’t get that far, I’m afraid. I was checking the condition of the wheat stalks. I’m better at ascertaining more information from the plant life. This soil is too frozen to yield much growth. Surprising they were able to grow even what they did.”

Magic licked my fingers readying a spell. It would stop her heart in a breath though I would need to act fast to save the Anchor. _Please Lethallan, don’t force my hand…_

“Herald?” Cassandra asked, coming into view with the dwarf at her heels.

I firmly clasped my hands behind my back, dropping the spell before anyone would notice.

“We should talk to this Corporal Vale then, Herald?” I asked keeping the tension from my voice.

Thankfully, Ellana nodded without pressing further. A chill laced my spine as we walked up the hill to speak to the human clad in leather armour with fur lining the collar and hat he wore. No one was aware of who walked among their Inquisition or what I was capable of. What I almost did to the Herald… the thought sickened me. I tried to turn my dark thoughts onto the survival of the refugees.

Corporal Vale directed us to two more associates who elaborated on the aid the refugees required. Ellana believed that helping them became our priority. The meeting with the Orlesian Chantry in Val Royeux was still a few weeks out leaving our schedules wide open.

The Hinterlands was large but manageable once we acquired mounts from Horse Master Dennet and soon we helped the refugees with ram meat, stashes that used to belong to the rebel mages, and even broken down both mages and templar encampments. Being outside, sleeping under the stars brought about a peace I hadn’t felt since before the explosion at the Conclave. The others must’ve felt similar as the high strung tensions broke down to joking and Varric reciting outlandish stories.

During one of these nights, after a full meal of ram meat, I wandered along the edge of our camp. It wasn’t yet my watch and, with no injure to attend, my healing magic wasn’t needed. A perfect time to find my own form of relaxation.

The horses slept with their heads bowed, manes swaying in the breeze and they didn’t stir when I passed. Pulling my body into the low branches of a nearby tree, I breathed in a long gulp of air, and watched out into a small meadow feet beyond camp. A faint smile spread until it shown in my eyes warming the heavy sorrow I grew used to carrying.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that, Solas.” Ellana whispered, settling her body next to mine.

I nodded, not letting the darkness in just yet. Lifting a finger, I pointed to the three wolf pups hunting fireflies in the tall grasses below. Their parents watched at some distance, but were content to bask in their own company of grooming one another. Beside me, Ellana gasped and I felt her slender fingers curl around my bicep. A whine escaped my taut throat before I noticed its making and she glanced at me, her brows knitted up in concern.

“Fine… I’m fine.” My voice was low and husky as I whispered to Ellana. “Just didn’t expect you touching me.”

Ellana’s lips parted slightly, her tongue flickered along its full bottom, a hint of lust reflected from her shining eyes. My heart hammered as my breath stuttered in my lungs. She drew closer – if that was any more possible – the heat of her body seared mine, drawing bumps along my flesh. Before I could stop myself, I closed the remaining distance, a hand dropping to trail my fingers along the tops of her hips. She felt tender and temptation, twitching faintly beneath the pressing of my fingertips. I watched the curling bow of her lips, the flick of her tongue tasting the air between us. Her woody, lily aroma sang like ambrosia in my veins, growing stronger with only inches left of space. A small hand touched my back – tentative at first – then hungrily smoothing along tunic and muscle in search of mapping out my body.

“Solas.” Her voice came out barely a whisper, more like a plea.

I closed my eyes in surrender. I wanted this for longer than she knew, but this was the first time I allowed it. The warmth of her lips so close to mine sparked a fire I forgot was there.

A low howl from the meadow below doused the fire wrenching me back as if bitten by a snake. Desire smouldered just beneath my heated skin and I scooted back to press against the tree’s rough bark, free from her addicting fingers. Ellana stared at me with confusion and rejection colouring her eyes; her hands fell to her lap.

“I’m…Ir abelas.” I choked, fighting the savage wanton animal that craved to violate her.

“Tel’abelas, Solas.” Hurt traced the edges of her eyes, pulling at my heartstrings to reach out, sooth her.

“You should be.” I hissed, hating the pain I knew I brought to that beautiful face. “It should alarm you that I might allow this. What if my intensions are nefarious and I am seeking to ingratiate myself by your side to use you for my own purposes?”

Ellana shifted where she balanced along the branch we shared, her expression told me she was considering what I said. Then she shook her head, her eyes meeting mine in a sad smile. “You aren’t that type of man, Solas.”

_Right… I’m worse._

She reach to where I sat but stopped when I flinched. Her hand curled into her lap, holding the wrist of the other. Green light flared from under her left hand, its cry beckoning me closer. I eyed it for longer than I should, forcing my eyes up to see her frown. Sighing, I shook my head.

“Ellana… I – we – can’t.” I lied.

Truth fell unspoken from my lips but remained at the forefront of my mind. Flames sought to burn me up even at the distance I forced between us. The feelings, the want, it was returning to the surface. Persisted. Feelings I didn’t deserve or could afford to reciprocate. She was too precious to destroy, too precious to love, yet only I knew this.

One more touch would kill me. My body teetered on the edge of a dangerous precipice. We hadn’t kissed, but every inch from skin to bone to blood tingled from the sensation brought about by her questing fingers alone. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip finding it dry and aching to taste her. She sat painfully close with raw desire radiating from her eyes as they moved up then down my body in a hungry movement. In the darkness I noticed her fingers twitching to reach out again, but my senses were fully returned to me.

“I can’t.” My voice sounded as a weak whimper in my ears, but I managed to slip down from the tree, shaking my head.

At first it felt as if lead weights wrapped around my ankles attempting to root me in place, but I focused on making one step forward at a time. When the camp came into view walking was easy again, and my composure nearly recovered. I slid into my tent and shrugged out of my restrictive clothing without stopping to acknowledge either Cassandra or Varric who looked up from the fire at my approach. I closed my eyes.

Tentative fingers gripped the base of my cock feeling it quiver and beg at the touching. A breath sucked out as a low groan from my dry throat. Without pause for clear thinking, my hands moved of their own volition. Ellana invaded my thoughts and I let her this time.

_I need you…_

_I don’t deserve you…_

_I will hurt you._

But her phantom would only last as long as I held my release at bay and with no lingering repercussions I writhed as I plied my body with the ache it desperately needed. Biting my lip, I fought not to scream out my carnal pleasures or invoke her name as a prayer. No one could know how I desired for her.

Burned for my little Halla.

White, hot light blinded my senses and my body seized briefly before it broke. Twisting and snaking, I crested – my seed spilling over my fingers, stomach and soaking into the fur throw covering my legs. Squeezing my eyes shut, I rode through the thrashing, giving the Wolf the intoxication he previously begged for. It felt a hollow victory but it scratched the building itch and, when the euphoria left me, my body fell limp in the furs of my bedroll.

I sighed, calling a cleaning spell to the surface and passed the magic across my overstimulated cock and ruined bedding. Shuddering one last time, feeling peace and emptiness, I closed my eyes, pulled the newly cleaned fur over my head and embraced the heaviness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Translations:
> 
> Ir abelas - I'm sorry
> 
> Tel'abelas - I'm (NOT) sorry


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Times in Val Royeux.

Orlais sparkled with pristine white walls and shops that must have had to take hours of polishing daily to retain their splendour. Statues of gold reflected the soft rays of sunlight cast on the cloudless day. The city’s population bustled about draped in attire as luxurious as it was constrictive – silks, velvets and showing not enough skin to properly identify who they were. Rich and poor shared the manicured walkways and shops none the wiser of each other’s existence. All part of a ruse well known in Orlesian society: the Game.  
Heads turned and hushed whispers followed our group – particularly the Herald of Andraste – as we made our way toward the place where the crowd gathered. It brought memories of another time and another city full of similar majesty and gossip; a different lifetime when living was simple and innocent. My heart seized at the flood of happier days before my hand was forced and the Wolf was born. Closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose to ward away the pain, I growled low and deep in my throat.  
This is inappropriate.

“Something got you tight, Chuckles?” Varric asked walking beside one. “I know the stench of human villages can be a bit much to take in.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak at that moment and, thankfully, he dropped any further questions.

“Keep your guard up, Herald.” Cassandra warned, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

Ellana nodded, a brief glance in my direction, which I did not return. Since the night up in the tree, I kept a suitable distance from her. It was necessary to regain control over my emotions and insatiable lust. I felt grateful that she didn’t press though the hurtful glances she threw my way spoke volumes. I did my best to keep all eye-contact cool and dispassionate, determined not to rekindle her hope.

My eyes wandered to take my thoughts from such temptation, paying careful attention to the number of guards watching us with hands poised on swords at their waist. Another growl escaped my lips. If they posed a threat I would make short work of them before Varric could loose an arrow from Bianca. Peace talks be damned if it grew into hostile actions. I would protect _my_ Anchor at all costs. That was all the Herald was to me.

Cassandra and Ellana approached the cleric who was spouting in a self-righteous tone to the gathering crowd about their Divine’s death. Varric and I decided to hold back, but he was too engrossed fiddling with his crossbow’s switches and glaring at the guards, to notice me walking away to examine one of the lion statues. Running my fingers along the carved mane, I fixated on its detail if only to appear as if I was appraising its architecture. No doubt it was an exquisite piece, but this lion carried a secret fashioned – upon request – by its maker centuries prior.

My thumb brushed along a shallow cut out of place from the rest of the mane, and only noticeable to those who expected it to be there. A gentle tug coaxed the switch to flip and a cutaway at the lion’s shoulder to open, revealing a small black sphere lodged deep inside. A quick check to make sure no one watched me, I plucked the object and pocketed it, replacing it with the rolled parchment the elf at the Crossroads gave me a week ago. Once the parchment fit snug, I flipped the latch back into place and the opening sealed flush as if the compartment never was.

Behind me I heard a hollow sound of something hard and metal cracking against bone followed by Ellana’s outraged shout. Turning back to the crowd, I saw the cleric now on the floor clutching her head and a man, clad in armour similar to what Cassandra wore, barking at the Herald. My eyes darkened with rage and I clutched my staff in a white knuckle grip, calling my magic to the surface without hesitation.

Ellana stood her ground staring down the new Seeker even as Cassandra attempted to reason with him. Lord Seeker Lucius, I heard Cassandra name the man. A rather pretentious title, but if I had learned anything about mortals, they loved to make their short lives grand and important. Pushing my magic down into my veins, I decided to hold back. Casually, I leaned against my staff and tipped it ever so slightly so that the crystal caught the blaze of the sunlight. I shifted it in a series of relaxed movements that might look like mere fidgeting to an observer.

My eyes caught the flash of sunlight bouncing off the shear surface of a mirror being flickered from a second story window. I rocked my staff twice more then moved to rejoin the Herald.

“Charming fellow, isn’t he?” Varric said as he stopped next to where Cassandra and Ellana stood.

“Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad?” Cassandra huffed at the Herald.

Watching the gathering templars leave with the Lord Seeker settled like rotten food in my stomach. Almost like when there was an itch I couldn’t reach to scratch. A familiar essence clung to the retreating man that my brain screamed I should remember.

_Fade._ That’s what clung to him, much like it would around a spirit or even a demon.

My eyes narrowed at this Lord Seeker Lucius. I knew that feeling first hand, and it settled ill in my stomach. This could end very badly if I didn’t watch my Anchor carefully, even if it meant getting dangerously close to the Herald of Andraste herself.

“Do you know him very well?” Ellana’s question tore me from my thoughts, and I turned my head to hear Cassandra’s answer.

“He took over the Seekers of Truth two years ago, after Lord Seeker Lambert’s death.” Cassandra answered automatically then turned her head to watch as the last templars rounded the corner out of sight. “He was always a decent man, never given to ambition and grandstanding. This is very odd.”

_Because that is not the same man if truly he is even human._

Though voicing my opinion would lead to questions and answers far too complex for another’s understanding but mine. They would come to my conclusion on their own soon enough. Probably.

“Do you think he can be reasoned with?” Ellana asked, her tone suggesting how tired she truly was, and I wished I could take the weight off her shoulders.  
The mess she found herself in was of my own making, after all, but I was still too weak to harness control. I needed my damn orb!

Cassandra sighed. “I hope so. If not him, there are surely others in the Order who don’t feel as he does. Either way, we should first return to Haven and inform the others.”

Ellana nodded and began walking toward Val Royeux’s entrance. An arrow shot from the air striking into the cobblestone at the Herald’s feet. I brought my staff up, coiled and ready to spring to the elven mage’s defense, but no follow up arrows hit the ground. No one jumped to attack us and – after a moment – I relaxed.

“What was that?” Cassandra exclaimed, her hand poised on the pommel of her sword. “An arrow with a message?”

Kneeling down, Ellana picked up the arrow, unravelling the message from it. Her eyes flicked over the writing multiple times before giving a firm nod of her head.

“We should look into this.” She said, and headed off to the opposite direction to the entrance, deeper into the city.

**. . .**

A fire bolt flew through the air toward the Herald’s head, but she ducked in time and it sailed passed, almost singing the tip of my ear. My body still thrummed with the magic I used on the previous set of guards who attacked us a few moments prior. Through this door, the pyromancer was a man dressed exquisite mask. He straightened his shoulders back and huffed in a haughty demeanour.

“Herald of Andraste! How much did you expend to discover me? It must have weakened the Inquisition immeasurably.” The man stated in a snub fashion as if he truly believed we searched him out, instead of stumbling upon him by inconspicuously placed notes.

“I don’t know who you are.” Ellana said with a shrug of her shoulders.

The man scoffed and swaggered. “You don’t fool me. I’m too important for this to be an accident. My efforts will survive in victories against you elsewhere.”

I rolled my eyes at his boasting, a trace smile playing on my lips. A twang of a bowstring caused my ears to twitch before the guard’s scream drew the attention of the haughty human.

“Just say ‘what.’” A nasally voice said as a blonde elf dressed in red pointed her drawn bow toward the annoying human.

“What is tha--”

An arrow embedded itself in the man’s throat through his open mouth. He gurgled as he fell.

I raised one eyebrow at this newcomer, my fingers picking along the grain of my staff. Was she friend or foe? I knew for certain she wasn’t one of my agents, but she wore no vallislin to show she was Dalish.

The elf groaned before approaching the Herald. I held back and watched the shadows in case we sprung an ambush. As the two women spoke in low voices, I caught movement of armed soldiers stalking closer and then the elf named Sera announced the reinforcements before they launched their attack.

A dozen guards brandishing swords, bows and suspiciously naked from the waist down sprang toward the Herald and Sera. Magic surfaced without thought, pulling up bumps along my flesh and I guided it into the crystal at my staff to cast a barrier over Ellana to protect her.

Volley of arrows from both Varric and Sera flew at the two archers on the balconies, Cassandra took care of the bulk and I aided Ellana in sniping the stragglers. The loss of their breeches made them easier targets and they fell in less than a few minutes.

Then Sera began to proposition the Herald to join the Inquisition. My eyes narrowed and I felt heat blistering behind my gaze. Ellana actually smiled and laughed at whatever the elven ranger said. A low growl rumbled in the back of my throat and I dug the staff handle deep in my palms, hissing when I felt the burn of the leather.

Sera brought a laugh to Ellana’s perfect lips.

“Uh… Chuckles… are you alright? You’re all red.” Varric asked, stopping at my side and kept close as we walked back. “Your ears--”

“I’m fine.” I snapped, though in truth, all I wanted to do was rip off the blonde elf’s extra pointy ears.

Shards of fragmented lightning ran along my knuckles as I kept my narrowed gaze on the elf’s retreating back. It was all I could do to keep from shooting Sera into the Fade ass first.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas does some Fade walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My own use of the Elvhen Language is expanding thanks, in part, to FenxShiral's "Project Elvhen: Expanding the Elvhen Language. This is a great piece to read as not only does the author give new words and phrases that could exist within the Elvhen society, they also break down the actual language's makeup. It reads with painstaking intelligence and detail. Please check it out.
> 
> Project Elvhen: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883/chapters/7825850
> 
> Ma serannas.

Clan Lavellan was different from other Dalish clans I encountered throughout my travels. They were accepting of all elves and polite – at times friendly – with humans as well as other elves. It was one aspect that drew me to them when I woke, one year prior to the explosion at the Conclave. After several millennia deep in Uthenera, I stumbled into the poisoned arrow tips of the clan’s hunters disoriented and weak, but they didn’t strike or drive me off. Instead, the clan welcomed me and my recovery began. I forced myself to leave soon afterwards so I wouldn’t grow complacent.

However, during several Fade walks I visited to check up on the clan since I left. This time was no different, though the reasoning behind it was decidedly selfish.

Ellana was Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan’s First when I was originally brought before both ladies by the elven hunters. Even from our initial introduction, Ellana’s hunger for magic and knowledge came close to matching my own. I was attracted to her curiosity as those wolf pups were, nosing after the fireflies in the meadow. Dangerously attracted. With her now a part of the Inquisition, the feelings I tried to smother now tugged me toward the Lavellan Clan, if only to inquire after their welfare.

I owed her that much though would in no way make up for what I’d done to Ellana in the past. The Herald, however, would never become aware of this.

I remembered Ellan informing Adan that her clan was in Wycome now – a place where they travelled before but not when I stayed with them – so I decided to check there. Taking a long draw from the sleeping draft I mixed together in my wooden tankard, I relaxed into my straw mattress back at Haven and waited for the herbs to take effect. My breath grew deep and slow first followed by my heart. A heaviness settled on my eyelids, and I did one final scan around the white markings arranged in varying patterns in painstaking order. Only when felt satisfied my wards were holding, did I allow my physical form to drop and my spirit to rise.

Extricating my soul to Fade walk always reminded me of shucking an ear of corn; I needed to use delicacy to collect every fibre of spirit essence and oftentimes use force at the very end. This process came natural for me now and I barely noted the soft sigh from my body as I left it.

Blinking my eyes to shift my field of vision, I located the sliver of a crack in the Veil and pressed a hand over it. With the birth of the Breach, more and more fractures – similar to this one – began to appear. This weakening of the Veil represented a double-edged sword, both a sign that I was on the correct path with my old magic shivering, weary of its burden, and yet without someone there to control the collapse, it would tear both worlds apart. How rapid these tears formed alarmed me. If I was lucky, I had five years to gather my full strength.

Stretching my fingers inside the sliver in front of me, I gasped at the prickling of snapping energy that soaked into my soul. A wave of homesickness washed over me and – using my other hand along with the first – I nudged the sliver open wide enough to slip inside.

Brilliance and fragments of a world once as breath-taking as Arlathan greeted me with sick skies and black decay. Hollow screams of a pain made so long ago, echoed in the forefront of my mind as if the rendering just happened yesterday. Dark vines of ink seeped across my translucent skin, trying to capture and keep me, but I broke the hold easily.

Passing through pockets of swampy ground, I tried not to glance at the shattered glass of old, forgotten Eluvians, dilapidated furniture pieces of many snuffed out lives, and the wisps of spirits in various states of deterioration. Voices without language spoke after me, begging for a release I could not give. My heart, even in the Fade, burned that I condemned these sorry creatures to their fate, but at that moment, it was the living who needed me more.

Any time I glanced up at the swirling green clouds thick and billowing in the torrent sky, I caught the floating pieces of Arlathan. The ruins reflected a deep malady. As I continued through the frigid mist of the Fade, I noticed pockets of shimmering rifts and areas where Thedas peaked through.

_Ley lines… connections bridging the two worlds as if the Veil never existed._

In the Fade, time passed in a different dance and sensations like taste, touch and smell were muted to almost non-existence. Though suddenly homesick, I found myself drawn toward the waking world of Thedas, reminding me why I chose to leave in the first place. It felt like a gnawing void that expanded the longer I stayed, and yet I filled myself with its ugliness. This strengthened my resolve passed a trifling infatuation brought on by an elven mage, though the most beautiful I beheld in several lifetimes.

This broken place needed me to take down the Veil to bring about a permanent salvation that no amount of temporary kindness could slake.

A light tore me from my stumbling and melancholy musing drawing my attention to another area where the Veil thinned. It stared back at me like a glassless mirror and I pressed against its clear membrane with my fingertips watching the image of the forest beyond ripple at my touch. The surface felt unresponsive yet alive with a surge of electrical currents.

Closing my eyes, I pressed my forehead against the fragile barrier and sucked in a deep, smooth breath. Earth and evergreen scent ribboned around my body with hints of wild elfroot arcing up in the shadows of tall trees. A breeze curled its gentle finger on my exposed neck, head, and hands, raising bumps on my flesh. These were falsified results of the Fade’s attempt to paint what it thought I should feel and see. Though I left my body sleeping in Haven, the Fade used my former sensations to evoke memories of long days living in a forest much like this one. Demons manipulated such recreations to trap dream walkers deep in the Fade until any temptation for release would be accepted by the dreamer.

Tasting the fresh dew in the air caused my ethereal body to shudder and I could take standing on this side of the Veil no longer. With my hands, palms flat on the glassless, rippling mirror, I separated the film and stepped through. It sighed and bent, fraying like gossamer between my fingers, resisting even as it gave in to allow me passage through the Veil into the world beyond.

The world of a fellow dream walker.

The grass was cold and moist on the pads of my feet – as it felt so often a few hours right after the dawn burned the chill away – but only because I expected it to feel that way. Memories reconstructed what was true to the senses of my spirit as it attempted to recreate how my soul might react. Before I tasted these truths for myself, I could only trust the fabrications. Now thanks to my experience, I saw the tiniest infractions in the infrastructure.

Staring down at the very dry, autumn grass – though still seemingly dewy underfoot – I shook my head and picked my way to where I knew the dreamer would lay. Sunlight dappled low between the trees to suggest early to mid-morning. With the familiar impression of magic crackling along the edges of this fictitious world, I knew the dream belong to Clan Lavellan’s leader.

_So even in sleep the Keeper dreams about this place –_

As if materialized by my thoughts alone, Keep Deshana Istimaethoriel sat atop a flat outcropping of rock surrounded by halla. One rested its great antlered head on her lap while her fingers tangled in its thick mane and beard. Its eyes closed as the beast let out a sigh of contentment. A beam of sunlight fell on the Keeper and I swore I caught the faint smell of honey-suckle and cedarwood near her.

“I wondered if I would see you soon, Wolf.” Keeper Istimaethoriel said in a soft warning tone, glancing up to meet my eyes unflinching.

Around her the halla shifted, gazing at me with anticipation and dread, but they did not move to run, choosing to remain by the elven woman’s side. Some stamped their cloven hooves and snorted in my direction. I gave a snarl, my lips curling to bare my teeth, before I heard her continuation.

“You are aware that my First is missing, no doubt.” Her glacial amber eyes narrowed at me. “You promised me you would not harm her.”

“I have not laid a finger on her.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but the times I touched Ellana was to heal her not harm. “Sending her to the Conclave, Keeper? Do you think that was wise?”

“Don’t chastise me, Dread Wolf.” The Keeper snapped. “You wouldn’t invade my dreaming if it didn’t involve my Ellana, and I daresay you owe me an explanation.”  
Propping my hip against a nearby tree as close as I felt comfortable near her, I crossed my arms over my chest and threw an amused look her way. “I do?”

The Keeper’s look soured, venom pooling in her gaze. She opened her mouth to speak but I cut in.

“Without going through actual calculations on if I truly owe you anything, I will give you the information you seek. A favour for allowing me to recover in your clan, and for you keeping up appearances.”

Keeper Istimaethoriel clenched her jaw, tucking a stray red strand of hair behind her ear. Folding her hands in her lap, she stared up at me with shards of ice reflecting from her eyes and waited.

“Ellana survived the disaster that took place at the Conclave, but the humans captured her. At the moment, she is with the Inquisition, an organization created amidst the chaos to close the Breath in the sky.” I didn’t wish to tell her everything. If she wanted more then she must go through the proper channels to figure it out for herself. I did skirt around my own involvement, however, so not to cause a repeat of what transpired the last time we spoke.

“To insist you are hiding something would lead to a pointless argument between us, Wolf, and I’ve learned where my place is… in regards to your personage.” She considered me for a moment, possibly hoping to see even a tiny crack in my mask, but I held my defenses firm. Then she gave in with a sigh. “Very well, how can I contact this Inquisition?”

My shoulders relaxed – I didn’t even feel the tension to begin with as a dreamer but my body would when I woke – and sat down at the base of the tree. I spoke to the Keeper of how she should go about reaching Leliana of the Inquisition to uncover Ellana’s welfare. When the Keeper finished with her questions – the ones I would answer – I stood to leave. The draft was wearing off as I now felt the phantom twitches of my body back in Haven. Around me, the dream world was distorting in colours, becoming more winter than autumn.

Then I felt the odd impression of the Keeper reaching out to touch my shoulder. Her invasion into my aura itched at me and a wave of nausea crashed against me with her contact. I hissed, knowing the sensation would follow me into the waking world as settled in my stomach.

“I wish you would refrain from touching me.” I growled, not turning to face her lest I might lash out and attack her for annoying me. In the dream worlds, the Wolf was closer to the surface of my mentality that I usually found its form more comforting than the Elvhen.

“Ir abelas, Solas.” Her tone stiffened when she spoke my given name before continuing. “Do you still have feelings for Ellana?”

Clenching my fists at my side, I shrugged her hold from me and melted back through the Fade without an answer to her question.

**. . .**

Sitting up in the straw bed, I leaned my back against the headboard and massaged the bridge of my nose, then trailed my fingers to the strain in my neck and shoulders. My stomach flipped and I swallowed the knot of bile back down. Sunlight began to invade through the shutters of the solitary window in my hut, causing me to let loose a heavy groan.

My eyes settled on the wooden tankard on my bedside table, and I picked it up to examine its contents. A frown pressed along my lips at the dregs clinging to the bottom – the remnants of my excursion – before setting it down with a loud thump in frustration. For a moment, I considered and reconsidered creating a new batch of sleeping draft just so I could somehow haunt the Keeper’s dreams or cause her to forget my one time dalliance with her apprentice. My wits quickly replace my impulsive passions, and I found my thoughts drifting instead to the tavern the Inquisition recently set up.

“Fenedhis lasa, I need tea.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas deals with the Herald's nightmares and mages of Redcliff.

No one spoke as we huddled around a roaring campfires. Less than a week passed since the events that transpired at Redcliff Castle when wresting the mages from Tevinter control. Roasted bear smoked out the fresh pine and earth scent of the Hinterlands drawing an ache in my stomach, and I turned an eye toward the rack Varric was tending. I pinched the bridge of my nose letting out a staggered sigh and glanced to where the Herald sat lost in thought by the fire. A dark frown pressed across her full lips, and there was a tension on her brows.

Redcliff affected her greatly when she came out of the portal that Magister Alexius sent her through, but she didn’t speak about what transpired. It changed her, aged her, whatever happened and I felt compelled to talk her through the events. There was a shift as a shadow of the newcomer crossed over the camp to sit down next to Ellana. My lip curled at the young Tevinter mage leaning closer to the Herald to speak in hushed tones. My ears pricked, catching stray words of the conversation. He tried to console her, reassuring her that they fixed the future and she didn’t need to worry. It would not come to pass, and that her companions retained no memories of the dark future he and Ellana diverted.

Another sigh left me and I stood, walking over to the mounts. The horses ripped out tender stalks of grass snorting when I approached and shifted nervous around me; the reins tied to tree branches kept them from running. I rummaged through my saddlebags checking all the compartments to make sure everything was in its correct place.

“Perhaps I should call you ‘Sighs’ instead of Chuckles.” Varric commented, stopping next to me holding out a wooden plate laden with bear meat.

Taking the plate, I raised one eyebrow, throwing him a sideways glance. “Wouldn’t that ruin the aesthetics of your storytelling, Varric?”

“How so?” The dwarf asked between mouthfuls of his own dinner.

I chuckled in a flat tone. “Your books are satire, and you make no exceptions in painting your mockery, including colourful nicknames. Indeed, giving me such an accurate name might chafe your audience.”

Varric opened his mouth to speak then his jaw dropped, staying wide for several moments. It was a wonder nothing flew inside to choke him. At least he swallowed his food first. After a minute or two, he closed it as if being pulled back into our world.

“You ready my books, Chuckles?” He let out a stuttered laugh clearly not believing the notion as true.

I shrugged and shifted most of my weight onto my right leg, kneading a cramp out of my left thigh. “It occupies the time between missions.”

Someone cleared their throat and we both jumped, my heart in my chest. Letting out a slow breath, I forced my body to relax, clasping my hands behind my back.

“Ellana.” I breathed.

Varric whistled but I refused to let my facial features give away my actual feelings.

The Herald’s eyes fell to the dwarf and she wrung her hands out. “Varric, can I have a moment alone with Solas?”

_Please don’t leave me alone with her._

“Sure, Herald.” Varric winked at me then walked back to the campfire humming a tune to himself.

For a fleeting moment, Ellana just stared at me, her thoughts lost somewhere deep in the Void. I noted the deep purple bags just beneath her lower eyelids and the shadows of the firelight casting over a face so sleep deprived and haggard. Frowning myself, I shuffled through various dialogue I could use to open conversation.

“So we have gained the mages. Excellent. They should be able to seal the Breach.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other not wanting to bring back the nightmares that plagued her, but knew the necessity of doing so. “You are certain you experienced time travel?”

_I know you did… do not lie to me._

Ellana’s brow furrowed but I nudged further.

“Could it have been an illusion? A trick of the Fade?”

She worked her jaw silently for a few moments and I saw glimpses of questions and pain reflecting from her eyes. Then she found her voice. “I’ve been to the Fade before; I’d know.”

“What an amazing gift. It is vital that the Inquisition succeed to avoid the future you witnessed.” I remembered to furrow my brow for added effect.

_Another fenedhis reminder giving Corypheus my orb was a mistake. Venatori… assassination… red lyrium… again. Corruption._

Interest peaked in her narrowing gaze. “Most people have trouble wrapping their heads around the idea.”

A ghost of a smile touched my lips. “I’m not most people.”

Her eyes dropped to stare at her feet mulling over my words perhaps. The way her shoulders sagged a fraction as if pressed suggesting she weighed her options on telling me the whole story. I waited for her to arrive to a conclusion she was satisfied with.

When she spoke, her tone expressed a heavy weariness that I bit my tongue to keep from reacting to. “I appreciate you talking with me about it, and not being most people.”

She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. It tugged at my heartstrings.

_Something light… to make her laugh. What would Varric say in this situation?_

I fumbled and spoke the first thing to enter my mind. “If you wish me to speak of Orlesian fashion I maybe at a loss. Magical surprises I can handle, speaking of which you should ready yourself.”

_Why does everything turn dark for me?_

“For?” Ellana sighed and began wringing her hands again.

I twitched my brow dropping my hands at my side, speaking as if it was obvious. “This Elder One. You have now interfered with his plans twice; first at the Temple of Sacred Ashes and now again at Redcliff. A being who aspires to godhood is unlikely to ignore such an affront.”

Ellana nodded, a sad darkness settling over her features as she turned her gaze back to the center of camp. If she slept tonight the nightmare at Redcliff would plague her because it was all that occupied her mind. It needed to stop or it would consume her, possibly kill her.

_You need to let this pass, Lethallan. This future will never exist now._

Going back to repacking my saddlebags, I pinched the bridge of my nose to think. Turning around with a pouch of dry herbs in one fist and my wooden tankard in the other, I made confident strides back to the campfire. Tonight, I would enter the Fade again to dream walk into Ellana’s nightmares to shape them, heal her so that she might have a peaceful night’s rest.

**. . .**

With the arrival of the mages, Haven grew in activities and headaches. Around the Herald, all the arguments between the mages and everyone else – especially the templars – ceased. The moment Ellana left, however, the mages resumed throwing their bulk around.

I felt the tension rising as some newer mages came scouting about my hut, one day, probably seeking supplies to pilfer or maybe wanting to claim my quarters. It was only after I placed locking wards on my front door did I feel satisfied enough to poke around Haven. All around the village, I felt closed in with the press of too many bodies and loud minds.

As I meandered toward where Cullen trained the Inquisition’s Forces, I noticed a mage growling at Cassandra. Again. The first time this happened the Herald intervened. Now, I felt compelled to step in for the Seeker. There was movement that caught my eye to see the scruffy Warden – the Herald recruited – approach first. He whispered to the mage, his hand casually grazing the hilt of his sword as he did so. The mage snarled, swiping a hand through the air before stomping away.

Cassandra turned to Warden – Blackwall was his name – and they began speaking with heads bowed. I shifted my gaze feeling as if I was suddenly invading a private meeting and decided to grab the leather scraps from Harrit for rewrapping my staff. The Iron Bull nodded toward me with his lieutenant Cremisus standing beside him watching me with narrowed eyes. I responded with a likewise nod and, with the scraps in hand, I made my way back to my hut.

A group of mages examined my door and I groaned, bracing for my confrontation.

“Did you create the ward on this door?” One of the mages asked as she noticed my approaching.

Sweeping passed them, I skewed the ward to unlock the door. “Of course, this is my hut, after all.”

A second mage stepped up to press his hand against the threshold of my door, a haughty demeanor in his eyes. “I’ve seen none but you enter here these past few weeks, Knife-ear. Given Haven’s modest holdings, Enchanter Sulen requires all mages to bunk four to a hut.”

I purposely affixed my dispassionate mask on and shrugged my shoulders, blocking entryway with a casual slant of my staff. “As I’ve said, this is my hut; set aside for my use when the Inquisition was founded here. Your Enchanter holds no power over a mage that never lived in a Circle.”

I watched the mage’s face mottle a deep fascinating shade that would make plums jealous. He clenched his fists at his sides and shifted his beady gaze from me to my crudely fashioned my staff. Maybe he sought to snap it in half as if that could prevent me from accessing my magic. He stayed his hand from action which was best outcome and I resigned to watch a small ripple of the Fade clinging to his form. I shifted my look to a bored one and slowly began to shut the door.

“I do wish you luck in finding your temporary quarters as long as they aren’t mine.”

The dry click and the look on their dumb-founded faces brought a wonderful satisfaction to the morning’s start.

It barely lasted an hour when a loud thumping against my door shattered my meditation. The Wolf snarled inside but I fought the urge to disembowel whoever disturbed me. That course of action was brutish and ill-advised especially if the Herald stood on the other side. Unlikely given the anger behind the pounding.

When it started a second time, I uncurled myself from my cross-legged position, pulled my tunic over my chest and opened the door. Garish winter sun blinded me from high in the sky, and I quickly looked down at the auburn haired mage – in elaborate silk robes - surrounded by the three others who I brushed off that morning. Though I didn’t get a closer look before, I recognized the human as the same man who railed on Cassandra earlier. His spicy green eyes snapped at mine, venom clouding them, possibly his mind too. I sighed and pressed two fingers against my temple.

“Enchanter Sulen, I presume.” I acknowledged with a slight dip of my head. “How may I help you?”

The man’s square jaw clenched and unclenched, working through the simmering anger. “These three told me that you refuse to share your hut despite an order that was given, mage. I demand an explanation.”

I raised an eyebrow, but allowed that sole emotion to show. “As I told your fellow mages here, I am not of the Circle and was assigned these quarters by the Inquisition before an alliance was made with the Rebel Mages.”

“You’re a mage!” Sulen shouted, his face flushing deeper than his robes. “As such, you are bound to--”

“I am a member of the Inquisition and willingly placed myself in the midst of Chantry forces before your Rebellion decided we were a worthy enough cause to lend your support.” I kept my voice calm despite the heat against the back of my eyelids.

_Why are they trying to force me into belonging now. When it would be convenient for them?_

Enchanter Sulen huffed and punched his fist against my door. “If the Tevinter Alexius hadn’t forced Senior Enchanter Fiona to indenture us we would’ve joined sooner. You have an obligation to accommodate your fellow mages as a mage--”

The Wolf snapped.

“I am under no such obligations.” I answered in a flat tone. “I was there and I witnessed the Inquisition needing to risk the life of their Herald to correct your fatal mistake. Afterward, you were allowed an alliance alongside the Inquisition. We are not the same.”

The mage flushed redder than a tomato if that was even possible, and he screamed loud enough that Adan stuck his head out the window of his hut. “You know nothing of our suffering, apostate. How dare you call yourself a mage! You should be ashamed.”

A bemused smirk lit my faced despite the thumping that beat against my temples. _As if one can choose to be a mage_ , I thought. My fist clutched the brass knob. “Your prisons have been torn down to alleviate your suffering. Now, you must make your own bed as I have.”

I closed the door, placing a ward to lock it from being opened or damaged, and did not react when the Enchanter began his pounding again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fall of Haven...

Returning to the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes brought back images of smoke, guards shouting, and the graceful moves of a certain elven mage slaughtering demons. Though the memories of that night were now only phantoms, the tension prickled along my shoulder blades, travelled down my spine to settle into the half hard shaft of my cock. My gaze found its way to the gentle curve of the Herald’s ass, and my eyes swung back and forth to the hypnotic pendulum motion of her full hips; watching her lead the group of Inquisition members and former rebel mages.

The area was eerily calm without demons, but a massive green scar flared angrily, and crackled with so much magic. It taunted me as a sore reminder of my latest mistake, but soon it would trouble me no more. Corypheus was still out there, however, with my orb and whatever monstrous plans he concocted in his mind. Some already made known through the Herald’s trip into that corrupt future.

Cassandra and I stopped beside the Herald, both of us glancing over to confirm she was ready. Ellana still appeared laden from lack of sleep despite every measure I took each night in the Fade to soothe the nightmares. Sighing, the elven mage gave a nod of her head before moving closer to the heart of the Breach.

Taking that as a sign, Cassandra turned to address the ranks of mages lining the crumbling banister of what was once the upper levels of the Temple. “Mages!” She called out.

I held up my staff horizontally as a focal point noting the grimaces of a few mages – particularly Enchanter Sulen – for having to follow my instruction. After he spoke directly to the Herald about my insubordination, he sought me out to apologize for his earlier behaviour. What I would give to be a fly on that wall during such a humbling conversation. The daggers he threw at me now with his eyes was a sweet reward indeed.

“Focus passed the Herald,” I brought my staff down at my side and outstretched my free hand. “Let her will draw from you.”

I raised my staff high to be a signal and watched Ellana. My eyes settled at her ass once more and I licked my lips. _Fenedhis! This isn’t the time._

Wouldn’t have noticed her raise the Marked hand to connect it to the Breach were it not for the nauseated pull of both magicks that tore my attention from her feminine assets. Growling, I lowered my staff to strike the ground and give the signal. Behind me, I heard the grunt of the mages as their staffs followed suit. Electricity ignited through the air and my stomach lurched but I managed to stand my ground, not hunching over.

A brilliant light sparked from the connection and then an explosion ripped my feet out from under me. I fell on my back seeing the Seeker land likewise on the dirt beside me. She shot to her feet almost immediately, barely fazed, and made her way to where the Herald crouched, nursing her left hand. I took my time getting to my feet feeling blinding pain just behind my eyes.

Bowing my head, I squeezed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose until the red lights turned to a cool black behind my eyelids. A cheer rang out among those gathered, and I cracked my gaze to see the Breach only a tiny scar in the sky, and Cassandra leading the Herald in a celebratory parade back to Haven. I watched the mages and Inquisition soldiers follow before walking closer to examine the quiet remains of the Breach.

A gentle hum travelled as electricity pulling up the small hairs along my arm as I stopped where the Herald of Andraste had stood. The air retained a faint aroma I associated as Ellana. I closed my eyes to drink in the fleeting curls of her scent before returning my focus on the faint green glow hovering in the sky. Mana touched my fingertips. The sudden urge to rip the Breach back open called to me, but I swallowed the suicidal thought down like bile souring in my throat.

_I must wait a little longer to assault the Veil._

“Solas?”

I half turned to see Cassandra now stood feet behind me. Alone. Her eyes shifted, staring at the sliver of green in the sky before gazing into my eyes. She chewed on her bottom lip as she probably thought about what to say, what to ask.

“The sky is scarred but calm. Your Herald was successful.” I answered her unspoken question, watching a spark light in the Seeker’s eyes.

“Thank you, Solas. I’ll let the Herald know.” Cassandra said with a slight nod of her head before, turning on her heels and rushing back to Haven.

Watching her leave, I glared up at the Breach wondering where Corypheus hid with my damned orb. It might be time to leave now to figure out where the creature holed himself up. Turning back toward Haven, I forced myself to walk. I would slip out after everyone else slept off their celebrations.

“Chuckles!”

Before I could react, the Durgen’len’s meaty fist caught my arm at the elbow, and began to drag me toward a group sloshing ale everywhere and belting out slurred songs. Caught off guard by Varric’s manhandling, I forced the tension from my body and the magic back down into my veins to allow him to direct me.

“Solas!” Ellana chuckled, waving from the Requisition’s table. Cassandra stood next to the Herald’s side and she nodded when her eyes met mine.

I gave a small smile to the elf before Varric shoved a mug of ale into my hand. The Iron Bull clapped me on the back and clinked his mug against mine, causing ale to slosh over the rim, splashing onto my tunic sleeve. He laughed in an obnoxiously high level, shouting something in his native language that came out too slurred to even make out that they were words. I rolled my eyes, smelling the overpowering stench of alcohol from my own mug.

_We did just close the Breach so why not celebrate?_

_Didn’t you want to leave?_

_I should still put up a front so they don’t suspect. I just won’t drink myself into a stupor._

The Wolf growled back at me but let the argument settle. I took another swig of my ale and sat down by the fire pit to listen as Varric regaled us with another wild tale of the Champion of Kirkwall. It was in the middle of Varric’s second story, and my second mug of ale, that the alarm bells truck overhead, cutting off all celebrations.

“That does not bode well.” I said, staring up at the sky.

Gasps replaced laughter and Cassandra brandished her sword, calling for us to make our way to the gate. I picked up my staff and fastened it onto my back as I abandoned my mug on the bench to follow the Seeker’s order. I felt compelled toward the Herald’s side to see her through this new danger, whatever it was. Cullen rushed over to us an immediately began informing Ellana what the scouts found. I didn’t listen to the exact words being said.

Another presence lurked on the other side of the main gate – similar to myself – moving closer at an alarming speed. My eyes narrowed not knowing what to expect. Evanuris? No, that was not possible, but whatever drew toward us exuded a kindred presence to me. Light flared from the other side, pounding at the wooden gates followed by a soft, masculine voice.

“I can’t come in unless you open.”

Ellana flew down the stairs and yanked the brass rings to wrench the massive wooden doors open. A large soldier stumbled forward – not even aware they already expired – only to fall when two metal daggers sunk into their back with swift, horizontal swipes. As they fell to their knees and toppled over, a young man in patchy leathers wearing a gigantic wide-brimmed hat hunched over barely showing physical signs of exertion. The brim of the hat hid any facial features of the lad giving off a look of mystery that I knew well.  
My eyes fastened upon the creature in human form.

“I’m Cole.” The young man introduced, coming closer. “I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know.”

“What is this? What’s going on?” Ellana demanded, all signs of alcohol and joy fled in that accusatory tone.

My magic rippled to the surface pulling me past the boy toward the dark forests into the mountains beyond. Familiar energy. I knew what was on its way toward us before Cole spoke again. At least I didn’t need to leave to search for the Magister now.

“The templars come to kill you--”

“Templars!” Cullen charged in, cutting the boy’s warning short with a snarl. “Is this the Order’s response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?”

Cole hunkered down as the Commander approached, readying to attack if provoked. Fade bled from him lashing around the boy to solidify into twin daggers by his side. He seemed to call them whenever he had need. I stood impassive at the top step, watching the exchange between the three, my interest piqued when the boy turned to point into the shadows directly behind.

I angled my view to see the two figures leading these Red Templars as Cole named them. The one man with red lyrium sprouting from his chest didn’t interest me – a foolish human seeking to end his life in madness. It was the tall, reddish-black darkspawn; the sickening Magister, that brought my gaze to narrow to points. Magic sparked along my fingertips teasing at the old mana floating through the air seeking me. No one else could see the connection unless they carried a great connection to the Fade, but the close proximity chilled me. I drew back into the shadows, passing the line of mages and Inquisition soldiers before anyone might notice the strange phenomenon. Cole’s sharp eyes shot my way and followed me. Curiously, however, he said nothing to either the Commander or the Herald standing beside him.

_So… you feel it too, Young One._

Cullen began bolstering the army, tearing the young man’s attention back to them, before unsheathing his sword and trumpeting the attack. Ellana made her way to Varric and Cassandra to debrief the situation. I rose and casually walked over to meet them.

_Corypheus comes a calling._

_Shut it, Wolf!_

I – it – laughed in response for a few seconds and then went silent. Sometimes I truly felt like two different dualities in one body. Foolish as that sounded even to my ears; if that were the case it would make ignoring the Dread Wolf much easier. Honestly, the truth was more complicated.

As I neared, Ellana gave me a fleeting smile, informing us that we were heading to guard the trebuchets.

**. . .**

The second trebuchet went up in a blaze of glory, burying a large portion of the attacking army. Overhead, the enemy sounded the horn of retreat and the Inquisition soldiers threw up cries of joy. Though my initial reaction was to join them, I knew Corypheus wasn’t about to give up so easily. Not after he survived unlocking my orb; doing so would be a pathetic way to end.

A shadow flew through the pale moon releasing a deafening roar and belch of fire. Flames slammed into the trebuchet, sending us back in an explosion of burning wood and metal. I rolled onto my side feeling a multitude of tender skin along my body that would most likely bruise the coming morning. Picking myself up, I dusted the debris from my mage robes and check to see nothing actually broke from the fall.

“That’s not possible!” I called out as the dragon circled back to us. _Fenedhis lasa! He has a dragon under his command!_

“Everyone to the gates!” Ellana ordered and shot toward Haven.

We passed the open gates – stopping only to break the boxes blocking the front door to Harrit’s house – with the dragon flying close at our heels as Cullen urged everyone through. Slamming shut the doors with the dragon overhead, we took the steps two at a time.

“We need everyone in the Chantry.” Cullen commanded then faced the Herald. “It’s the only building that might hold against that… beast. At this point just make them work for it.”

“Let’s get people to safety.” Varric called out.

Hulking soldiers – more beast than human – poured over Haven’s feeble fortifications as if being produced from endless rifts. The Herald barrelled through the Red Templars as a windstorm against unsuspecting tree branches. Her fury propelled each attack, sundering the enemy troops to save the villagers trapped by the crumbling collapse of Haven. Only when each villager was rescued, and sent to wait at the Chantry, did Ellana round us in the building too.

Inside the Chantry, I ducked into the back to quickly check on the elven servants. A particular group huddled in a corner seemingly cowering, but on further inspection each one held a dagger or sword at their side. Determination gleamed in their wild, fury-soaked eyes. We all locked gazes as I drew closer.

“Ser.” Their temporary leader, who I recognized as the first agent I smuggled inside the Inquisition, greeted me with a slight bow of her head. “Everyone is ready to lay down their lives so you might succeed.”

She kept her voice low to prevent anyone not of the order to catch what she told me. I shook my head, placing a hand on her upper arm as if trying to comfort her.

“If at all possible, living is preferred.” I said without hesitation or remorse. “Now search the grounds, halls and holes. We must escape, with Herald or without.”

“What of you, Ser?” The elf frowned.

I nodded to the group, breaking contact and slipping back to the entrance. _I go to reclaim my orb_ , though that wasn’t something my agents needed to know personally.

As I made it back to the Chantry’s front door, I saw Ellana’s haggard face light up.

“Solas, there you are. I didn’t want to leave without you – ah – my best healer by my side.” Ellana grabbed my arm and directed me to where Varric and Cassandra checked their armour and weapons.

The Herald repeated the plan she and Cullen formulated. It was hasty and guaranteed no definite success for survival, but it was a plan of attack. It required a distraction and, naturally, the Herald volunteered us.

“I understand the strategy.” I said, following Ellana back into the bitter snow with Varric and Cassandra in tow. “But I usually avoid drawing this much attention.”

The Red Templars waited for us, proving it a trying fight as we made our way down to the last intact trebuchet. More ambushed us upon arrival, including abominations who were once men. The Blight festering in these former templars’ veins rubbed me wrong, recalling memories of when Andruil – the Evanuris the Dalish named as the Great Hunter – travelled to the Void to hunt, until she too felt as vile as these creatures. It fuelled my thirst to cut them down. Nothing so corrupt should be allowed free reign in Thedas and Elvhenan, and I would see that they never would again.

Our scuffling against the creatures, was quick and brutal, as we laid into all who blocked our objective. As we fought, I kept my eye out for Corypheus. He was here somewhere, I felt the power of my orb drawing closer. When the hulking abomination – largest of all the Red Templars – fell to the ground, we were given a breather.

“Crew the trebuchet.” Cassandra called, pulling her blade from the body of a dispatched templar.

I blasted the last templar on my end to watch as Ellana finished aiming the trebuchet. Cuts along my body pulled and I hissed at the stinging at first.

“Is everyone alright?” Varric asked, plucking crossbow bolts out of the scattered bodies.

“Nothing that some salves can mend.” I muttered with a deep frown that creased my brows as I examined my robes. “My clothing, however, is a different story entirely.”

“Ugh! Again with your tunic, Solas. Would you and Dorian grow up already? You two are as bad as the Circle mages, always complaining about clothing.” Cassandra scrunched her nose and grunted in disgust.

“Apologies, Seeker.” I turned to her with a twitch of my jaw and a look in my eye that caused Varric to start laughing. “I shall have Dorian burn all my clothing and--”

“Move! Now!” Ellana shouted, retreating from the trebuchet in haste.

A shadow of wings flew closer followed up with a stream of fire that rammed into the barrels of powder near the trebuchet. The explosive sent me reeling into the dark, disorienting my senses. Then I hit my head against something cold and solid ripping all consciousness from me.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossing the blizzard toward the safe camp where Haven's survivors stay and telling Ellana about Skyhold. Also, introducing more spies.

Blood thrummed as an accelerated heartbeat in my ears, calling my thoughts back to the surface. It was all I heard in the beginning, but the crackling of fire quickly surrounded me. Upon opening my eyes, I saw a world of chaos. Corypheus faced the Herald with his corrupt dragon blocking off any access to her. Sitting up, I cradled my throbbing head in my hands feeling a warm, sticky liquid coat my fingertips.

Bringing my hands away, I saw the angry crimson blood staining my palms. “Well, that’s no good…”

I glanced back toward the Herald and the Magister in possession of my orb, my eyes narrowing. Getting to my feet, I crossed between the alleyways between buildings and shrubs to avoid attracting attention as I made my way to the Chantry. A desperate magic pulled at me with piercing claws so overwhelming that I gritted my teeth against the near crippling suffocation from my orb.

Dizziness slammed into me full of memories of a younger, bolder Elvhen clad I wolfskin with a wild brown mane whipping in the wind as he sought a way to correct a brutal betrayal. Distant screams of a people dying in the chains of slavery begging for an end that I willingly gave, drowned out the crackling of Haven. An end that now I recognized was a terrible mistake.

_Ir abelas, I cannot face Corypheus in my current condition, Lethallan._

Reaching the Chantry door, I wrenched it open, wincing at the hollow, nails-on-metal creak the hinges made, and glared to where I knew she stared down the enemy. A bitterness settled in my stomach at leaving the Herald again, but it was out of my control. I spat on the ground.

“Corypheus,” I hissed, feeling the Wolf surfacing. “Su an’banal i’ma.”

**. . .**

My agents chipped into parts of the wall – a subtle signal – I was going in the right direction down the dark tunnel. Slipping my staff from the holder along my back, I forced magic in the crystal to light the way and leaned heavily upon it as I walked. As I followed the trail, I stumbled on debris, oftentimes stopping to catch my breath. The pounding of my head slowly worsened as the blood continued to tickle. Bringing more mana to the surface, I mumbled another healing spell on the wound to attempt to reknit the flesh. New skin itched and stretched around the wound, stoppering the blood from flowing out. The blood loss caused small shivers to wrack along my body becoming more violent the moment the tunnel widened, and I stepped out into the bitter winds of a blizzard.

Footprints of a stampede of people were barely noticeable, but visible enough to guide me in the general direction the survivors of Haven took. The icy snowstorm battered me as I tracked the group; occasionally I wondered if Cassandra and Varric made it but the majority of concern was for the Herald.

That’s when I heard the wolves.

Several dark, shaggy shapes skirted warily around my campfire. They whined, debating if it was smart to move closer until their alpha – a great black beast – made the decision to enter toward the fire. I raised an eyebrow at his bravery and growled a small warning.

 ** _Greetings, Brother,_** I whined knowing that I might end up fighting them off but hoping it wouldn’t come to that.

**_You not like other furless demons. Smell like Kin._ **

I smiled, revealing my teeth to the black creature. He smelled the Dread Wolf crawling to the surface with hackles raised. I quelled the feeling of overbearing dominance and want to rip this pack apart. If they were willing to speak to me then they might prove useful enough to let live. I prayed the leader was wise to not challenge the Dread Wolf directly.

**_I am Kin, I growled back. Just unable to change forms._ **

Hopefully, he’d believe the lie.

The leader sniffed the air between us and all my muscles bunched. Sorrow and pity exuded from the creature’s yellow eyes and… opportunity. A look I knew all too well. An alpha wolf – even an injured one – was too dangerous to leave alive, especially one without a pack to protect him. Magic tingled to the surface in preparation, but I hoped the beast would see sense.

 ** _Unfortunate…_** His voice trailed off as he lunged for my throat.

A green tear wrenched open, sending a boulder to collide into the black wolf. He howled, crashing into his pack mates in a tangled heap of limbs. I drew on my magic again feeling the earth shake and the sky split in a rain of fire. I needed to end the fight as quick as possible given my weakened state.

Raising my hands upward, I cast a barrier to surround and shield me from the torrent of fire plummeting to the ground. Yelps and whines hissed from the now singed wolves, but the alpha scrambled to his legs to attack me again. Fury and fear clouded his eyes. I stared back at him in pity.

 ** _Fool._** The Dread Wolf roared.

The Veil ripped open beside me, drawing the wolf closer toward the rip in the Fade. Angry snarls disintegrated as the black wolf began to backpedal; his eyes wide in terror. Oozing tendrils lashed out hooking onto the wolf’s legs and pulled it closer to the tear.

 ** _You should’ve left me alone, pup._** I felt my bones crack and begin to shift.

 _No!_ I screamed for the transformation to stop. I was still too weak to hold myself in this form.

The Dread Wolf just laughed at me. I fell on all fours and my scream turned into a howl as my body twisted into the hulking black wolf every elven mother warned their children would come for them if they wandered off alone. Blinking three pairs of scarlet eyes, my body leapt on the other alpha wolf sinking sharp teeth and claws in its hide.

The scent of the creature’s fear drove my lust for killing. The high-pitched whining coming from the other wolves encouraged the Dread Wolf. They knew this was a fight between two alpha males and wouldn’t intervene to save their leader. If he did not live through this he was seen as weak. The Dread Wolf knew this and relished in the battle. Sweet blood coated my tongue and I shook the alpha by the scruff. The torn Veil weakened the beast, causing him to split his priorities from keeping in his world and killing me.

With renewed, savage strength from the Dread Wolf, the scuffle didn’t even last a minute. I quickly dominated my attacker turning his silk black fur into a sticky mass of blood before throwing him into the Void for good measure. The howls of the alpha’s former pack mates brought my attention to them, but neither they nor I attacked. I won this battle.  
Heads bowed the pack whimpered and exchanged glances between where I stood and where the sliver of Void whirled. Rank fear smothered the fresh, winter air and the Dread Wolf decided to capitalize on such an easy defeat. Sitting back on my haunches, I proceeded to lick the top of one paw as if the fight didn’t ruffle my body. **_There is someone I need you to help. Do this for me and I’ll allow your pack to live._**

A lithe, brown furred wolf padded toward me with head bowed in respect. **_You are Alpha now. The pack will do as you so order._**

My limbs began to shake and the ill settling deep in my stomach grew into a nuisance. _These wolves had to leave. Now!_

 ** _There is another… like me… who will need guidance to find me… help her._** The Dread Wolf ordered, ignoring my protests.

I projected an image of Ellana, hoping that the wolves’ minds were large enough to pick up the magic and recreate what I showed. For a few minutes the pack whimpered and growled between one another, then the brown female approached me once more. All six eyes blinked at her as I tried to pull off a bored expression while trying to hold down my last meal.

_Too much… I need to return to my Elvhen form._

Inside the Dread Wolf growled a warning to me. _You aren’t safe yet… hold out._

 ** _We make sure your mate finds you safe._** The brown wolf whined, her tongue flopping out on one side of her jowls.

_She’s not…_

**_Good. Make sure you do,_** I replied. It was easier letting them believe the Herald and I were a mated pair. Wolves understood a simple dichotomy between male and female relationships and my head hurt too much to argue.

Make certain she does not see you. My head swam now with black dots filling in the powdery snow in my vision. I felt my balance tilt on its side, but none of the wolves looked at me confused so I probably was still standing. It was time, my strength and mana – coupled with blood loss – waned to thin fibres threading in desperation to keep me conscious.

**_Go now and leave me. I will know of your success when she shows up._ **

The wolves left with slight bows of their shaggy heads. As soon as they were specks on the horizon, I dropped the magic that held the tear in the Veil open and reverted to my elf form. I wretched every content in my stomach, including blood. My arms and knees shook from holding my weight, but I refused to fall onto my side.

_I’m not strong enough yet… to transform… into wolf form._

_Admit it. You enjoyed the killing._ The Dread Wolf chuckled.

 _Leave me!_ I snarled, grabbing my head to steady the vertigo.

 

Hours bled together until I stabilized long enough to pack up my belongings, break camp and stumble in the darkness and snow. The curtain of flakes impeded my vision, raking claws against my tattering tunic and leggings, making me hug my body to ward off the cold.

Then the skeletal remains of an abandoned campsite came into view. Its former inhabitants were days gone, but copper and iron pots littered the ground barely visible in the snow that quickly sought to reclaim the land. A few wooden polls stuck out of the frozen earth letting me know, by how fresh the wood was, that the survivors of Haven were the camp’s last occupants. Moving closer to the center, I set up my bedroll and built a fire. I glared at my own personal tent poles and canvas strapped along my backpack, but I didn’t want to waste my waning strength to set it up.

Getting any fire to burn with mostly damp wood was tricky, but with the help of magic, I was able to start a smoky one. The strains in my bones relaxed with the gradual warmth and tender massage from my hands. Slowly, I worked on bringing myself back to feeling like I did before Corypheus invaded Haven. Images of Ellana standing proud and defiant against the Darkspawn Magister filled me with honour and anger. Maybe she wasn’t Elvhen, but she was a better representative than any Dalish I ever met. I only hoped she survived the confrontation.

_Solas… why did you think giving your orb to Corypheus was a smart idea?_

**. . .**

Days passed as I followed the trail of broken down camps throughout the frozen wasteland as beacons to where Haven’s bulk wandered aimlessly. When I caught up to the current camp, I was greeted by some of Leliana’s scouts who directed me to the Nightingale.

“Solas, it’s good to see you made it. Cassandra and Varric made it two days prior.” Leliana greeted me with relief in her voice, but confusion and worry lingered in her gaze. “Where is the Herald?”

I glanced behind my shoulder toward the front of the camp and shook my head. “I don’t know if she made it out of Haven. I’m sorry.”

Her face fell. “Ah, I see… why don’t you go see Josephine or Mother Giselle to get some food and a check-up?”

As a mage, I could heal myself but my strength was too spent to summon up even meagre magic. I welcomed a chance to rest, eat and mundane medical attention. I walked deeper to the camp to where the white medical tents were erected to see Mother Giselle for treatment of my injuries, and a hot meal.

**. . .**

Commotion drew my attention a day later when the Inquisition’s Advisors rushed toward the entrance to the camp. Getting to my feet, I tried to see what started the uproar. That’s when I caught sight of her, and my heart lodged into my throat where it hammered. It took all my willpower not to run up to her to help her limp toward the medical tent.  
Ellana was pallid with lips and eyelids tinged blue from the cold. She shook with every step and appeared much thinner than I saw her at Haven, but she was alive. _Alive…_

I watched from the distance of my tent until she collapsed into a raised bed in Mother Giselle’s care. Once safe and cared for, I relaxed knowing that the wolves held up the end of their bargain. We were all united at last. As if to supply further proof, I noticed the hulking shapes and glowing eyes of the wolf pack skirting at the edges of the camp. Our eyes met and I nodded my thanks. The brown wolf sat back to deliver one long, low howl that caused some survivors to stiffen. When the howl faded, the wolves turned and ran into the depths of the forest. Their promise kept and duty fulfilled, they just wanted to let me know before they left for good.

With the question of the Herald’s survival answered, I walked back to my tent to think. It was time to give up some information since the Magister revealed himself.

 _How much do you intend to give, Solas?_ The Dread Wolf taunted.

 _I don’t know…_ but I pretty much did. Enough to sate her growing interest, but not so much to place viable blame on me. That she somehow survived Corypheus was nothing short of impressive, but no doubt she saw the orb he carried.

_She might still blame you in the end._

I left my tent walking along the edge of the camp to stare out at the mountains. Erecting a brazier containing the blue flames of mage fire, I surveyed the familiar surroundings. These mountains hadn’t changed in all the millennia I slept, and I recalled the younger world as if it was a dream. Faint images of phantom Elvhen pilgrims astride sleek halla, directing laden aravels away from our homeland appeared alongside the campsite. Desperate expressions full of sorrow and suffering cast glances over their shoulders even as they followed their heavily armoured leaders. They were long dead now, echoes of the past that tore at my heartstrings.

Tarasyl’an Te’las would have people within her walls again. Ellana Lavellan’s will and determination earned the Inquisition that much respect from me. Besides, the fight with the wolf reminded me I still too feeble to face Corypheus alone. If I wished to attack him in the future I knew I would gain that opportunity at the Herald’s side. How the mountains surrounding us sloped, we were possibly a week’s trek out from my former fortress. My agents reported that we still had two weeks’ worth of supplies, and Leliana sent hunters out daily in search of fresh meat. We would make it if I could convince the Herald to move the Inquisition. The Advisors would listen to her unlike they would me.

That was for another time, for now, the Herald of Andraste needed rest and healing above all else. Speaking with her could with another day or two.

 

The sun set once more before the Herald woke. I watched her throughout the entire night’s passing trying to formulate how to broach the subject about my orb. She spoke to Mother Giselle in hushed tones before getting to her feet and joining Cassandra and the Advisor over at a makeshift war table in escalating argument.

“Shadows fall and hope has fled. Steel your hearts. The dawn will come.” Mother Giselle started singing a low reverent voice, walking toward the Herald with slow strides and head bowed. “The night is long and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon; the dawn will come.”

My ears perked at the soothing sound, and I glanced up wistful at the full moon. Her soft tone, full of verbose melancholy, returned my thoughts to another war with its fated hero and another people seeking the faith from an unseen Creator. It transpired so long ago that it lay forgotten – trodden on by the feet of the living – but hearing the priestess singing breathed new life of those events inside me.

“The Shepherd’s lost and his home is far. Keep to the stars; the dawn will come.” Voices joined Mother Giselle’s as people emerged for their tents and crossed to the center of camp. “The night is long and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon; the dawn will come.”

Everyone drew nearer to Ellana singing and bowing to their knees at her feet. They sung in great reverence to the elven mage with fervent belief she was their Herald of Andraste. I watched on with narrowed eyes and thoughts that refused to quiet.

“Bare your blade, and raise it high. Stand your ground; the dawn will come.” No voice save my own held their silence now, and all looked at Ellana, expecting her to lead them out of the darkness they spoke of. “The night is long and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon; the dawn will come.”

I was leaned on my staff content to keep my distance until the song faded and I felt compelled to join the Herald. If I was to say anything it needed to be now while I still possessed a willingness to speak. Crossing behind the tents, I made my way to where Ellana stood with her back to me.

“Solas?”

I stopped and turned to see Mineve – the elf who studied creatures – standing with her hands folded in front of her. Catching my gaze, hers dropped as if she began regretting the interruption. I shook my head needing to get to the Herald.

“Speak to me at my tent later.” I left before the apprentice mage could react.

“It’s all one world, Herald. All that changes is our place in it.” Mother Giselle said to the Herald as she walked away.

_Wise woman… one worth heeding if the Herald has a mind._

I approached Ellana from behind and caught her smouldering blue eyes still weary from her ordeal in the blizzard. “A word?”

Without altering my pace, I led the elven mage back to where I erected my brazier. With a casual wave of my hand and pull from my magic, I ignited the blue veil fire and turned to wait for her. My heart fluttered at the sensual dip of her hips as she drew near, and my pupils dilated as I caught that heady blend of her aroma. Remembering those stolen moments with Ellana before I left Clan Lavellan, I clasped my hands behind my back to keep from seizing her in a passionate kiss.

“The humans have not raised one of our people so high for ages beyond counting. Her faith is hard-won, Lethallan, worthy of pride… save one detail.”

Ellana stopped before the brazier and stared at me in confusion. The heat from her body washed over me, drawing the small hairs along the nape of my neck to stand on end. A slight flare of my nostrils was the sole show of arousal I allowed slip, but she didn’t catch notice.

I turned my body to keep a suddenly stiff member from drawing attention and angled my face toward her. Squaring my shoulders finished the calm façade I worked to establish in front of the Herald.

“The threat Corypheus wields? The orb he carried? It is ours.”

No doubt existed in my mind that the Magister carried the orb with him when he faced the Herald. Without taking the required time to study my orb, he had no idea that recovering the Anchor – once placed – was impossible. Likely, the creature didn’t even recognize his prize as Elvhen. That wouldn’t stop the boastful would-be god from correcting his first mistake.

“Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave.” I hoped sharing this would spark her inquisitive nature just enough without casting suspicion on my knowing this information. “We must find out how he survived… and we must prepare for their reaction, when they learn the orb is of our people.”

Surprise sparked in Ellana’s eyes followed by subtle distress. “All right. What is it, and how do you know about it?”

Suspicion. Did I really doubt she wouldn’t make even a minor connection? She hadn’t outright accused me of withholding information, but she did demand an explanation. My heart skipped and my jaw ticked just slightly. I did so love her overpowering curiosity, so unlike her people. Fortunately, I devised an answer that should sate her questions without revealing more than I was ready to give.

“Such things were foci, said to channel power from our gods.” I shifted my weight from side to side, easing the tension from my abdomen. “Some were dedicated to specific members of our pantheon.”

_As this orb is dedicated to me…_

“All that remain are references in ruins, and faint visions of memory in the Fade. Echoes of a dead empire.”

I told her the truth, while skirting around my direct involvement. She would believe I came upon the answer through my many trips to the Fade and, by omission, I would be saving her from a cruel truth.

“But however Corypheus came to it, the orb is Elven, and with it, he threatens the heart of human faith.”

_Another of my many mistakes that needs correcting._

Ellana blinked and shifted to let my words settled inside. Her eyes reflected sorrow and she sighed. “Even if we defeat Corypheus, eventually they’ll find a way to blame elves.”

_Unless I tear down the Veil before they find out…_

I furrowed my brows. “I suspect you are correct. It is unfortunate, but we must be above suspicions to be seen as valued allies.”

She needed to think I stood on her side, ready to die for her at a moment’s notice. Only then would I be able to fit the pieces of the puzzle flush, and enact my plan with her still blissfully unaware of my intentions. It was a dangerous game I played, but with benefits exponentially greater than the risk. It was time to solidify my alliance with this Inquisition and give its Herald my most valuable card aside from my true self.

“Faith in you is shaping this moment, but it needs room to grow.”

All suspicion of me drained from her face replaced by a hungry inquiry. I fed off it as my eyes traced the mountains in the distance. “By attacking the Inquisition, Corypheus has changed it. Changed you.”

Fanning out the fingers of one hand, I pointed to a distance from us. “Scout to the North. Be their guide.”

Bringing my hand to rest back at my side, she returned her attention me. I gave her a faint smile knowing she would catch on to what I was offering to the Inquisition. “There is a place that waits for a force to hold it. There is a place where the Inquisition can build… Grow…”

Ellana’s eyes narrowed, her brow puckered together and she shook her head. “What place is that? How will I possibly find it?”

For a few minutes I let the silence grow. I had her attention captured and now it was time to ensnare it for my uses. “Skyhold… I will guide you, Herald.”

Ellana searched my eyes but I held my gaze firm so not to betray my plans. “Alright, Solas, we’ll leave at dawn.”

I raised a brow at her statement.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“Ellana… you’re our salvation.” I amended the words I really wanted to say. “We can’t afford to lose you.”

“You won’t.” Her fingers grazed along the tip of my shoulder, spreading a blush across my cheeks. Pausing, her tongue wet the bottom of her lip, and I saw her throat working as if deciding whether to chance a kiss.

I took a step back and bowed my head. “Good night, Lethallan.”

As I made my way back to my tent, I kept my gaze straight ahead, not chancing a glance backward.

_Solas… idiot… just give in… how long has it been since you took someone to your bed?_

_Too long…_

_Would one night really kill you?_

_Yes!_

“Solas?”

“Ah – Mineve and… Elan Ve’Mal. On dhea’lam.” This served as a pleasant enough distraction from the persistent desires growing deep in my groin  
They both met my eyes and stood with rigid postures. I clasped both of my hands behind my back, and gestured for the two of them to accompany me inside my tent. “An’daran Atish’an. Thu ea?”

“Ma enaste lan em lath’in’iseth.” Elan Ve’Mal said as she entered through the tent flap. “Ame son, emma serannas.”

Mineve dipped her head in respect. “En’an’sal’enast ea amahn. Am son, i na?”

I gave a tired sigh, but managed a ghost of a smile. “Am te’son, emma serannas.”

She nodded and we followed Elan Ve’Mal inside. The apprentice mage wrung her clenched hands in front of her, and kept glancing at the other red-headed elven woman dressed in dressed in a modest peasant dress.

“Something bothers you, Mineve?” I drained a water flask into two goblets and set them down for the ladies.

“Ma serannas, Ha’hren.” Elan picked up a goblet and took a drink.

Mineve followed suit, but tapped a finger on the goblet’s rim. “Are the vallaslin tattoos unique to the Dalish? Or is that another thing we got wrong as well?”

I sighed and shook my head. “It is complicated and I don’t have time to explain. The Herald wants us to move out tomorrow.”

“So… what would you have me do?” Mineve asked, and I saw the hesitation mixed with fear clouding her eyes.

As a new recruit to my network of spies, I understood. She only found out less than a month ago that I was Fen’Harel when I approached her about working for me. Unanswered questions still reflected in her eyes, but it was the Dalish fables she grew up on as a child that kept her from voicing them. Such a contrast to Ellana’s boldness.

“I have set up a replacement for you so you can become my eyes and ears in far flung places of the world, while continuing your research for the Inquisition.” My gaze moved over to Elan. “You, I will keep close, taking Adan’s place since the two of you have prior history together in the College.”

Both elves nodded and listened as I discussed my plans with them in further detail. They were polite and strict in their formality, reminding me of the old days living in Arlathan.  
A few hours dragged closer toward the morning when I finally told them to get some sleep. Once alone, I turned down the fur in my bedroll and shrugged out of my clothing. I stretched all the kinks out in my back and limbs before snuggling deep in my thick furs.

Sleep found me in a vision of a glorious raven-haired elven woman and a forbidden love I struggled to keep at bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to FenxShiral's Project Elvhen, I can give you great translations. Visit their page to learn more about Elvhen language at http://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883/chapters/7825850
> 
> **Elvhen Translation**
> 
> On dhea'lam: Good Evening
> 
> An'daran Atish'an: The place you go is a place of peace
> 
> Mar enaste la em lath'i'iseth: Your grace warms my heart
> 
> En'an'sal'enst ea amahn: Blessed to be here
> 
> Ame son, emma serannas: I am well, thank you
> 
> Ame son, i na: I am well and you?
> 
> Tarasyl'an Te'las: The place where the sky is kept (Skyhold's original name)
> 
> Ame te'son, emma serannas: I am alright, thank you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entering Skyhold, Dalish talks and Fade kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My editor returned my novel back to me with notes about needing to complete the edits by the end of this month so I'm a bit swamped with writing/editing. I managed to get this Chapter posted and hopefully I can keep to schedule.

Setting foot on Tarasyl’an Te’las’ soil again after the incident made me kneel, and place my head on the cool ground. I whispered a prayer to all my kin that lived and died in this fortress. My fortress.

_Aly’xin…falon… Ir abelas… I failed you._

The energies were rife and claustrophobic, with the Veil feeling extremely thin here as this fortress was the place of its origins. Giving a brief moment of silence to respect those who passed, I stood up to re-join the survivors of the Inquisition. The fortress was theirs now.

Everyone surrounded the massive, stone staircase leading up to the fortress’ heart, and watched as a smaller group of three people stood deep in conversation. Drawing closer to lean against a tree near the back of the crowd, I noticed Leliana holding a rather impressive sword that appeared more for decoration though I imagined it could be wielded in battle. Cassandra was next to the Herald speaking and gesturing to this sword, and Ellana furrowed her brow with a hint of fear reflecting from her cloudy blue eyes.

Ellana glanced out into the crowd and raised up the massive sword, staring intensely at its blade. While almost unimpressive, I did notice the polished metal cross guard shaped to look like the open mouth of a High Dragon.

“Have our people been told?” Cassandra asked in a voice well-rehearsed in the words.

Up front, Ambassador Josephine stepped forward to deliver an answer. “They have. And soon the world.”

Following what I can only assume was a written ceremony, Cassandra called out a second time. “Commander, will they follow?”

Cullen turned to address the crowd assembled behind him. “Inquisition! Will you follow?”

A rallying cry went up from all, save perhaps me. Instead, I hugged the shadows and watched the Herald’s face. Complexity, touched with a hint of doubt, spoke along the delicate lines of her face. She felt overwhelmed by it all, and who could blame her?

“Will you fight?” Cullen shouted and raised his arms to be heard over the crow. “Will we triumph?”

And still they almost drowned him out. My ears twitched from the noise amplification and sensitivity that my race was both cursed and blessed with. Some more soothing activity was called for after this was finished.

“Your leader! Your Herald! Your Inquisitor!” Cullen unsheathed his sword and pointed it up to Ellana.

With the proclamation and praise from the crowd, the Herald flushed then raised the sword she held higher. I watched a little longer unable to keep the smile, and worry, from my face. In achieving so much, she now sacrificed more than she realized. When I looked at her I noticed a younger version of myself.

_Like me, Lethallan, you now walk a dark path…one destined to erase your face._

Turning back toward the fortress, I went to secure my new quarters; not the bedroom in the tower that once was mine, but somewhere near the old library. Rotting wooden beams, most of which once supported parts of the roof, cluttered around brittle blocks of stone. Nesting animals poked their heads out of their burrows, hearing the hollow echo of my feet as I moved past them. Tattered remains of whatever heraldry banners hung from Skyhold’s previous residence still fluttered near the dirt smudged, stained-glass windows; what windows were still intact.

Walking through the skeletal structure wrenched my heart remembering happier days. Scents of mould and neglect settled in the stagnant air as I tiptoed through the rubble in search for the correct door. When I found it, I pulled it open, wincing at the rusty squeak from the hinges, and entered. The rotunda was at the lowest level of the tallest tower in the fortress with stairs spiralling upward into the library full to the brim with tomes, and ascending further until it stopped in the crow’s nest. I ran my palm along the compacted mud walls of the rotunda and breathed in the earthy soil.

“Perfect.” I whispered and set out to unpack my belongings, including the rolled up wolf skins and jars of herbal paints.

Once I setup the earthenware bowl full of water, my horsehair brushes and uncorked my paints, I outlined the murals I planned to decorate across my new bedroom walls. Scattered on the wooden desk in the center of the room were illustrations I intended to transfer onto my new blank canvas. Pulling off my tunic and folding it on my chair, I climbed the ladder to begin my work on alleviating my headache.

 

**. . .**

 

“Oh wow! By the Creators! You proclaim you aren’t Dalish, but I’ve seen ancient paintings done in a similar technique on many of our people’s ruins.”

I turned my head to the side and gave Ellana a small smile. “This technique is much older than the Dalish. It started in Arlathan with the Elvhen and I happened upon it during a trip in the Fade.”

“They’re beautiful…I’d be interested in hearing your opinions on elven culture.” She asked as I climbed down the ladder.

Walking to the desk, I rinsed my brushes in the bowl of water as well as a dampened cloth that I proceeded to swipe along my chest and face to clean the paint splotches. “I thought you would be more interested in sharing your opinions of elven culture. You are Dalish, are you not?”

At my question, Ellana straightened and jutted out her chin, but I noticed the scarlet on the apples of her cheeks as her eyes lingered a bit longer on my muscled abdomen. “Yes. I am. The Dalish are the best hope for preserving the culture of our people.”

I sighed and shook my head. Of course the arrogance spread to her as well even if she was such a striking creature. Your arrogance and ignorance blinds you to the truth.  
“Our people. You use that phrase so casually. It should mean more…But the Dalish have forgotten that.” I clipped feeling a press of annoyance against my temples. “Among other things.”

_Why can’t you see what’s missing and search for the answers…your passion is too hungry to just accept what the Dalish speculate at as absolute fact!_

A spark ignited in Ellana’s eyes, informing me that I just opened up a can of worms. “Oh, but you know the truth right?”

 _I lived it…_ “While they pass on stories, mangling details, I walk the Fade. I have seen things they have not.” I braced myself against the lashing I would undoubtedly receive.

She gritted her teeth and cocked her hip, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine. You think we’re terrible. What about the Alienages full of elves who aren’t Dalish?”

I scoffed. _Here we go again! If I don’t agree with the Dalish, I must sympathize with the Elves whose knowledge of **my** people would barely fit a thimble! Typical!_ “Why? What would it benefit some poor man in a Ferelden Alienage to learn that his Ancestors strode the land like gods?” I clenched my fist, forcing my tone to remain calm and collected despite seething inside. “It would only make him bitter, or inspire him to take a foolish risk and get himself killed.”

“You’ve decided his reaction for him.” Ellana accused, keeping her voice equally as calm, belying the rage simmering behind those beautiful eyes.

Sighing, I relaxed my rigid posture, relieving the tension built up in my muscles from both the painting and this disagreement. _This arguing is getting us nowhere and she’s not just **any** Dalish woman…_ “Perhaps I have. If you have questions and believe the answers will help, ask.”

Surprising me, Ellana also relaxed, her fingers even running over the wood grain of the table, worn smooth from millennia of use, and her gaze traveling over the parchments of paintings. When her eyes met mine again, curiosity replaced hatred and anger, and when she spoke, her voice was just as soft. “I’d like to know more about the elves from before our time.”

_Tread Carefully, Solas..._

“The Dalish strive to remember Halamshiral, but Halamshiral was merely a fumbling attempt to recreate a forgotten land.”

“Arlathan.” She answered immediately, and I nodded, but she wasn’t completely correct.

“Elvhenan was the Empire, and Arlathan its greatest city. A place of magic and beauty, lost in time.” Even now I recalled the elegant, hand-carved bridges and pristine, white washed walls, spiralling throughout massive, imposing trees. Magical runes of protection and prosperity glistened as beacons cast onto all the inhabitants, and I could feel its electric energy wherever I walked. Magic flowed natural and undisturbed by the ignorant louts of our present who were too afraid of the mysteries of the world that they’d rather ban it than study the very fabric of what created Thedas. These trees grew bore the sweetest fruits so none would walk the vendors hungry, and its people – vendors and citizens alike – wore clothing that would make an Orlesian green with envy. Yet we never wore masks. There was no need to hide our character.

Such crisp imagery came back to me, and I felt as if every breath I took refreshed my memory. For a moment, I walked its present rather than its past. Oh, how I missed those times…but it had to be done.

“You’ve studied ancient Elves. What else do you know of Arlathan?”

_Oh how I love her inquisitive nature! Dangerous. Attractive._

“We hear stories of them living in trees and imagine wooden ramps or Dalish Aravels. Imagine instead spires of crystal twining through the branches, Palaces floating among the clouds. Imagine beings who lived forever, for whom magic was as natural as breathing. That is what was lost.” Keeping my answers vague would continue the ruse that I only knew what I saw in the Fade.

Wonder grew in her eyes, but she just shook her head and plucked at the edge of my desk, killing whatever question she formed in her mind. A slight smile pursed her lips and she slowly skirted around the walls, scanning what murals I began with narrowed eyes. I wondered if maybe she was going to ask me the meaning behind the paintings or maybe inquire more about the ancient technique I used. I watched her, careful to keep the muscles in my face neutral and relaxed.

Her delicate fingers would reach out occasionally, begging to touch the fresh paint, but ultimately pulled back to continue her stroll with hands clasped tight behind her back. Her tongue wet her plump bottom lip, and she mouthed unspoken words. Curious warmth boiled along my body, and I distracted myself with shuffling my parchment in order and corking the various paints.

“Are all Dalish Elves like my Clan?” Ellana finally asked, stopping a foot behind me.

I shivered, feeling her heat invading me. _Creators! Does she even **know** what she does to me? Focus on the question!_ “No. Your Clan was unique in having enough interest in human affairs to send you to spy upon the Divine’s meeting. As your Clans have been separate for so long, they have all changed, adapting to the lands in which they live.”

_And take me in for a time…without hostilities until I started showing intimate interest in you…_

“Some are no more than bandits, others trade feely with humans, and some have disappeared entirely into the forest.” I added, disgusted about other outcomes that I didn’t go into. Slavery. Seclusion. Cannibalism. Just to name a few.

She nodded. “What can you tell me about Elves living in human cities?”

Chuckling, I sat down in my plush chair and stretched my legs out under the desk. Gesturing for her to do the same toward the white couch in the room, I devised an answer to sate her question. “The culture in Alienages or among the slaves of Tevinter is like any of the impoverished and powerless. They cling to memories of a better past and practice a few rituals to distinguish themselves from humans.”

Sorrow filled her eyes, but she did sit down, letting her head fall in her hands for a moment. I wished I could read her mind. I hated seeing the distress that painted her features so clearly as my answer settled. Then, he lifted her head and gave me a hollow smile.

“Is the magic they teach in the Circle different from the magic I learned with my people?”

_In actuality, the magic taught by both groups is fragmented and a perverse version of true magic. Like the difference of drinking wine versus drinking watered down wine. It is still wine but its effects are muted and leaves you wanting._

Aloud, I gave another answer. “No and yes. Magic is magic, just as water is water, but it can be used in different ways. Dalish magic is more practical, not needing Chantry approval. Although they still frown on Blood Magic. Superstition. Much of it is more subtle. A legacy from when Elves were Immortal.”

The last part made her straighten in her sitting position. “The legends of Elven Immortality…did they use magic to increase their lifespan?”

“No.” I stated firmly. _I am the living embodiment of this legend, and it was my cruel, but necessary act that ended it all for the Elves._ “It was simply part of being Elven. The subtle beauty of their magic was the effect, not the cause, of their nature. Some spells took years to cast. Echoes would linger for centuries, harmonizing with new magic in an unending symphony. It must’ve been beautiful…”

Silence took over the room and I didn’t push Ellana. Truth was, I enjoyed being here with her, and answering her questions. I watched as a kaleidoscope of colours painted her face, and how she furrowed her brow or wrinkled her small nose. My heart swelled in knowing that I placed these manifestations on her features and in her mind.

“You said that the censure against Blood Magic was superstition.” She eventually asked, pinching her brow.

“I did.” I replied with a smile and leaned across the table with my elbows propped up. “It’s fortunate Cassandra is not within earshot. Most modern cultures forbid Blood Magic. Publicly, even Tevinter disapproves of it. But as I said, magic is magic. It matters only in how it is used.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I’d be interested in learning more about Blood Magic.”

Healthy curiosity! “I would teach you, if I knew it. Unfortunately, using Blood Magic seems to make it more difficult to enter the Fade. You understand why I have never bothered to learn it. A shame. As it is extremely powerful. Provided it remains a tool, not a crutch…nor a passion.”

“Thank you, Solas. We’ll talk more later. At dinner, perhaps.” Ellana stood and gave me a smile before walking out with one more glance at my half done murals, and my naked torso.

**. . .**

 

Dinner was spent in the main hall of the Inquisition once enough rubble was cleared away to get a large wooden table inside with space for most of the key members of the Inquisition. When I entered – after cleaning up from the rest of the day spent painting, Ellana stood and waved me over to sit beside her. Food followed shortly and rowdy conversation. I added comments here and there when they seemed appropriate, but for the most part, I observed in silence. In truth, I didn’t have much in common with any of the members save maybe the Inquisitor, herself.

At least Sera and Dorian were loud enough to draw most of the attention. Varric and the Iron Bull sat next to each other exchanging stories, and possibly bets, judging by the casual glances they threw to various members. When their wandering eyes settled on me, I just raised an eyebrow and returned to the scroll I had been reading. They chuckled not long after.

Then, Ellana stood up and I felt an arc of electricity pass along in the movement. A hand touched my shoulder drawing my eyes up to gaze into hers. Raw intent flared in those orbs and a hunger that my earlier answers to her questions didn’t suppress. “I’m interested in what you told me of yourself and your studies. If you have time, I’d like to hear more.”

All noise stopped and heads turned to stare at the two of us. I felt their invasive smirks, wondering what was transpiring between us. If Ellana noticed, she showed no shame in what gossip her actions would no doubt create. I settled back in my chair and dabbed my mouth with my napkin. I wanted to talk to her more as well… just not with a crowd.

“You continue to surprise me.” I kept my voice purposely low and noticed – out of the corner of my eye – many of the Inquisition members leaned forward in their chairs to catch what I said to her. “All right, let us talk…preferably somewhere more interesting than this.”

I stood up then and brought her into my chambers trying to ignore the snickering from the other member as we left. I offered her some wine as an after dinner dessert and waited for her to nod off from the sleeping draft I mixed in with it. Gathering her up in my arms, I carried her through a secret passage that led straight up to her room where I tucked her into bed. I touched her cheek and smiled before disappearing to take my own draft and meet her in the Fade.

**. . .**

The vibrancy of Haven hit me as we both took the steps toward the Chantry. Instinctively, I glanced back to make sure Ellana still followed. It was amazing that she was even here at all. When I gave her the sleeping draft, I hadn’t expected that she would meet me here so easily, which made me smile all the more. She was brilliant and talented and…beautiful. My heart pounded, threatening to burst out of my chest, at how much she already did and the possibilities laid out before her. She almost felt like a kindred spirit, especially in the Fade.

“Why here?” Ellana asked, sweeping her gaze over at an intact Haven.

I stopped and gestured, before moving on. “Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you.”

She sighed deeply and shook her head. “We talked about that already.”

_She thinks I’m leading her in a merry chase; never fully answering her questions. Clever girl._

We made our way down into the Chantry’s dark dungeons and a wave of the first night returned. I shivered thinking about how we came full circle.

“I sat beside you while you slept, studying the Anchor.”

I heard her giggle. “How long can it take to look at a mark on my hand?”

Smiling, I turned and shrugged. “A magical mark of unknown origin, tied to a unique Breach in the Veil? Longer than you might think. I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found nothing.”

I remembered that night so clearly, back when the Seeker hauled me to her with all her fury. “Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn’t produce results.”

To my surprise, and delight, Ellana nodded. “Cassandra’s like that with everyone.”

Curls of Fade whipped around the elven mage, dancing as little sprites and flowed both in and out of the Anchor. So much pulled at my spirit surrounded in such an intimate space with a woman who caused my heart to flutter. Even with those words, a warmth spread over me.

I chuckled. “Yes.”

Then I gestured for Ellana to follow me as we left the Chantry. My fingers caught her own and I blushed, my nerves ignited and my head softly spinning. Once outside the Chantry, I thought of distractions and went back to telling my story. With any luck, the elven lass wouldn’t pick up on my hesitation.

“You were never going to wake up. How could you, a mortal sent physically through the Fade?” We stopped and faced one another as I divulged my feelings to answer her question about myself. “I was frustrated, frightened. The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach.”

Memories of that night flooded through me; of how my dream walking had been interrupted and I was dispelled from the Fade. The Explosion was at the core, the fault, but I wouldn’t hold the Inquisitor responsible.

“Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra…or she in me. I was ready to flee.”

_Possibly confront Corypheus and snatch back my orb…somehow._

Ellana blinked and gazed at me skeptically. “The Breach threatened the whole world. Where did you plan to go?”

_To the Conclave… to stop Corypheus or die trying._

I shrugged. “Someplace far away where I might research a way to repair the Breach before its effects reached me. I never said it was a good place.”

Smiling, I turned to stare up at the memory of the green Breach the Fade had recreated and stretched out my hand as if I perhaps had the Anchor etched inside my palm. “I told myself, one more attempt to seal the Rifts. I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them.”

The Breach flashed and danced in its powerful, vibrant magic that used to belong to me. Such beauty turned into a dreadful darkness and I knew I was at fault. I stared deep at the swirling vortex almost mesmerized. “I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee, and then…”

Images of holding Ellana’s soft, delicate hand as I raised her arm to close the rift with the Anchor, imprinted in my mind. The heat and rapid heartbeat returned with a ferocity I could no longer deny, even if I tried. Turning, I looked deep into Ellana’s lovely, blue eyes and breathed in her combined scent of femininity and sandalwood that the Fade recreated.

“It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture…and right then, I felt the whole world change.” _Revolving around you_ , I finished to myself.  
Ellana’s expression softened and she shifted her weight from one leg to the next, her eyes telling me she longed to reach out. “Felt the whole world change?”

“A figure of speech.” I added.

“I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in ‘felt.’”

_Fenedhis…nothing gets passed her._

_Do you really want it to, Solas?_ The Wolf’s voice, silent for most of the day, chose to speak up now.

I sighed in defeat. _No, not really._

She closed in and I gasped, my own features softening, and my mask dropping. “You change…everything.”

“Sweet talker.” Ellana muttered.

I looked away then felt her hand touch the back of my neck and pulled me around. Before I could register, those soft, full lips found mind. Blood pooled down my spine, settling into my groin to harden it. The kiss was brief as she pulled away with an embarrassed flush on her face, but I shook my head. Inside the Wolf growled just as hungry as me. As she turned away, I turned her around and kissed her again. Fierce. Desperate.

She tasted of honeyed-tea and wine. Her lips melted as butter against mine and she sighed into me. I wanted more. My tongue flicked intrusively at her teeth, and she parted them ever so slightly to invite that curiosity inside. She sucked and nibbled at my tender skin, her own tongue dancing along mine. With every new thrust from our tongues, I glorified in the electricity shooting through my body.

It took me back to the nights spent in the deep forest, stealing quiet moments just to drink in each other’s presence. These memories drove me into madness every night I lay without her in my arms since leaving her clan, and I slid my hands around her petite waist, traveling lower to cup her round ass.

Ellana’s hands explored the contours of my body, tracing each hard plane of muscle with her fingers. Those hands were far from innocent and every path they trailed pulled up the flesh underneath my tunic. A fire burned through me and I moaned in her mouth. Before I could contain my want, I pressed myself flat against her, rubbed my angry erection along her inner thigh. Ellana moaned and formed her body around mine.

The flames were consuming me, threatening to execute my good judgement faster than anything Cassandra threw at me. _I want you. Need you!_

_Just let go, Solas._

_No! I can’t…_

Reluctantly, I pulled away, shaking my head. Ellana stared back at me with pink lips so swollen from our erotic dance and I saw wild lust staring back at me. I shook my head and slated my lips to hers once more for a simple, chaste kiss that was anything but. When I broke it for a second time, I took a few steps back to separate us and the growing desires.

“We shouldn’t. It isn’t right. Not even here.”

_Are you so sure about that?_

Thankfully, though her face held clear disappointment, Ellana didn’t reach for me. She didn’t try to pursue further, but it was so hard to ignore the hurt and confusion in her eyes. Little did she know, how close she came to undoing me.

“What do you mean, ‘even here?’”

I took the opportunity to end this before it escalated into sex… and it would if I didn’t leave now. “Where did you think we were?”

As if noticing that Haven was intact, and whole for the first time, Ellana turned her head like she was truly seeing it for the first time. “This isn’t real.”

A cool wind blew, trying hard to extinguish a fire that never could truly be stifled. Even after the passing of time and space. I was starting to see the true danger that Ellana Lavellan possessed to my plans and…myself. Still, I focused on answering her questions. At least by actively doing so held off the need to rip our clothing from us and fuck until our bodies grew limp from exertion.

“That’s a matter of debate…probably best discussed after you wake up.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to say about this Chapter... my Editor wants me to finish editing my own novel so I do not have much time to write, but I won't my readers out in the cold. I do enjoy writing "Lathbora viran" especially since it shows a perspective of Solas that I don't see to many people exploring. I only ask that you, dear readers, find patience in me, as I strive to continue this massive undertaking.
> 
> Ma serannas.

The morning passed in a blur of colours and voices. The electricity of Ellana’s lips still buzzed along mine, and with every intake from my lungs brought a new blossom of her aroma. When she walked down from the Inquisitor’s Tower, my eyes followed her, and didn’t leave as she sat at the head of the table. Her gaze automatically found mine, and I looked away.

“So… how was last night, eh?”

I shot a glare at the Tevinter mage, only to have Dorian burst out laughing.

“Come now, Solas, you didn’t think you both leaving so abruptly during dinner would go unnoticed did you?” Dorian clapped me on the back and nudged his other elbow into Varric sitting on his other side.

I stood then, picking up the tome I was reading, my plate and my half-full mug. “I do not think it is any of your business, Dorian.”

My gaze flickered back to the Inquisitor, feeling heat rush through my veins creating a hotter fire than any magic could, and I ducked my head to break our eye contact. Dorian just laughed harder with Varric and Sera joining in. I shook my head knowing how ridiculously scarlet my face, and ears looked without brown hair to hide it, and retreated back to my sanctum to finish breakfast without prying eyes and unwanted questions.

 

**. . .**

 

No one intruded on me as I sat in silence at my desk, but Ellana’s presence still lingered from the day before. If I closed my eyes long enough I could see her small fingers glide along the dry sketches outlining the future murals on the rotunda’s walls; that pink smile on full lips bruised from our heavy kissing; mischievous blue eyes – like gems of sapphire – sparkling as she caught the meaning of my words. I relaxed into my high-backed chair soaking in the blissful memories and emotions she arose in me.

It was the soft, thud of leather soles – barely audible thanks to years of agile training – that broke my daydreaming. Before I even turned, I caught the scent of honeyed-tea and cedar warming the cockles of my heart instantly. When I turned, Ellana stood feet from me with her gaze down and wringing her hands in front.

“Sleep well?” I took to my feet and a few steps back. My breath caught in my throat, and I felt my nostrils flare. She was so beautiful, even outside of the Fade.

_Kiss her!_

_No!_ I hissed back at the Wolf. His mating lust nearly drove sane thoughts from me, and my body trembled.

Ellana didn’t appear to notice, and instead, closed the distance between us with a sultry sway of her hips. “When I asked to talk to you, I didn’t think we’d be doing it in the Fade.” A sly smile drew up her lips. “Or, for that matter, _doing it_ in the Fade.”

A nervous chuckle fled from me, letting loose the twisting knots growing in my stomach. _I wish we had…no, no! We can’t lose ourselves to our desires. I can’t…_

I forced my hands down to my sides acknowledging the twitch in my fingers to reach out and kiss her breathless. “I apologize. The kiss was impulsive and ill considered, and I should not have encouraged it.”

_Please listen to reason, Ellana, you would have no life with me!_

_Why do you deny yourself, Solas, as if you are not a man who deserves happiness?_

This time I ignored the Dread Wolf. He didn’t understand, and that part of me never would.

Ellana laughed, a musical tone, and shook her head. “You say that, but you’re the one who started with tongue.”

_Of course she remembers!_

“I did not such thing!” I replied too quickly.

Her face lit up and I kicked myself again. “Oh, does it not count if it’s only Fade-Tongue?”

A fierce blush licked up my face as unquenchable flames at her playful inquiry. My body growled with a desperate need to prove to her what Fade-anything really was.

_I’m walking a dangerous line._

But I liked it, and loved her. I couldn’t bring myself to voice such poisonous words. They would shatter my control and I would belong to her. Honestly, part of me already did. I sighed and ran a hand along my head.

“It has been a long time, and things have always been easier for me in the Fade.” I felt as if I stood on a precipice of unknown origins and outcomes. I wanted to end this, but needed to devour the experience. If we walked together hand in hand, I would destroy everything I loved about my Ellana.

_Take that chance, Solas!_

_Leave me, Wolf! This is my heart!_

“I am not certain this is the best idea. It could lead to trouble.” I hedged between what my mind said and my heart cried for. In that moment, I don’t think I could end this blossoming relationship…again.

“I’m willing to take that chance, if you are.” Ellana took another step putting us close enough that her extra heat washed over me and I stifled a groan.

“I…may be, yes. If I could take a little time to think. There are…considerations.” _Say yes! By Creators!!_

“Take all the time you need.” Ellana purred, her eyes raked over my body like hot coals.

“Thank you.” I choked.

A large smile – the widest I’ve ever seen her make, crinkled up her nose. Her eyes clouded and I got the feeling she considered grabbing me up into another kiss. A real one, this time. I felt myself mentally lean into it, so palpable was my desire for her, but she turned and walked up the staircase to the library. With her gone, I inhaled the fleeting remnants of her intoxicating perfume.

_You are an idiot…_

Shaking my head, I picked up my towel and headed to the underground hot springs for a much needed bath, and to think.

 

**. . .**

 

Though winter was fully on the land, the sun still gave off a small amount of warmth. Walking down the stone steps, I was ambushed by both Cassandra and Vivienne. Determination and hard frowns lined their faces, and their eyes locked onto mine. Stopping feet from the two ladies, I clasped my hands behind my back.

Vivienne’s critical eyes travelled the length of my body, and her lip curled upward. I knew what she thought. Her kind were obvious. A painstakingly plucked eyebrow arched high and her nose wrinkled, all of this in disgust. I was beneath her in every way despite being a mage. Relaxing my shoulders, I allowed an amused smile on my own lips.

“You will need to do something about your clothing, Solas.” Vivienne said, her voice soft and dripping with condemnation.

“Perhaps you and Dorian can work on that.” I replied, delighted to see her delicate features pinch together, sour and livid. It was possible that I was the more tolerable creature to her than the Tevinter, but then again, elves were everywhere in Ferelden, unlike Tevinters.

Cassandra scowled and grunted. “Mages! So much obsession with clothing…how can you even fight over such frivolities.”

“That is an excellent question, Seeker. Perhaps-”

“What is that doing here?” Vivienne remarked jabbing a finger to something behind me.

Turning, I noticed the spirit named Cole. The Fade surrounding him lashed out to coil about the Fade around my being. I smile enjoying the closeness of a creature so similar to myself. The young man was sitting cross-legged next to the stone staircase leading up to the fortress, and pawing at the dirt. He didn’t seem to notice the three of us standing, or if he did, he didn’t care to address us.

“Can’t you see, Madame Vivienne? Or does your pedestal keep you from seeing past your nose? Cole is minding his business as should you in both our cases.” I laughed enjoying the venom my words brought to her. She wasn’t as good at the Game as she thought she was, despite keeping her tone and demeanour collected; I noticed her subtle differences.

“I can see what he’s doing just fine, Solas!” She kept her voice low as she addressed me then lifted the tone so Cassandra could hear as well. “This thing is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet. It has no business being here.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Ellana stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and cocked her head at our conversation. I focused my thoughts and words toward Vivienne, if only to keep myself from being distracted by the Inquisitor.

“Wouldn’t you say the same of an Apostate?” I pointed out.

Vivienne just gave me a cool, imperious look, while Cassandra turned to address Ellana.

“Inquisitor, I wondered if Cole was perhaps a Mage, given his unusual abilities.”

I decided to jump in. “He can cause people to forget him, or even fail entirely to notice him.” I wanted Ellana to know the truth and understand, before Vivienne influenced the Inquisitor’s mind. “These are not the abilities of a Mage. It seems that Cole is a spirit.”

My body tingled at telling her this. I wanted her to understand, and accept, if only to ease my own apprehensions. Not of Cole, but of the entire Inquisition. If, as I had heard from the others was correct, that Ellana stated the Inquisition was for everyone; I needed to hear for myself that even a creature as unique as Cole was welcomed into this organization.

Vivienne wrapped her arms over her chest and spoke with cold finality. “It is a demon.”

The Dread Wolf growled, and my head began to pound dully.

“If you prefer, although the truth is somewhat more complex.” And neither your heart nor your mind is open enough to accept or entertain such a discussion. Around this woman I would make sure to spoon feed her only the lies a child such as herself would understand – lies that would put her nightmares to a naïve ease.

“Cole warned us about Corypheus at Haven. He saved a lot of lives.”

I turned at that sweet tone and grey eyes met blue. Her compassion warmed me against Vivienne’s ice.

Beside me, Vivienne lashed out bitter at her lack of sway upon the Inquisitor. “And what will its help cost? How many lives will this demon later claim?”

 _Foolish child…some never learn._ I decided, instead, to continue to bring Ellana firmly to my side in regards to Cole. “In fact, his nature is not so easily defined.”

It was Cassandra who stepped in. “Speak plainly, Solas. What are we dealing with?”

Though Cassandra didn’t like Cole either, I could sense a calm aura about her. She wanted to understand before shunning him completely. “Demons normally enter this world by possessing something. In their true form, they look bizarre, monstrous.”

_And you never forget what a demon looks like for the rest of your lifetime._

“But you claim Cole looks like a young man. Is it possession?” Cassandra asked with natural curiosity behind a callous gaze.

Hers was also a nature I found pleasing, which was probably why I enjoyed our teasing session. This time was no different.

“No. He has possessed nothing and no one, and yet he appears human in all respects.” The person I needed to convince most though, was the Inquisitor herself.

I took a few steps toward Ellana, trying to keep my heart from bursting out of my chest long enough to speak in a calm rationale. “Cole is unique, Inquisitor. More than that, he wishes to help. I suggest you allow him to do so.”

_Please Ellana…you accepted me. Could I call this the first test in our relationship? Possibly not, since I had yet to give her my answer._

Ellana pursed her lips in a thoughtful expression. “In my studies, demons either possessed something from this world or were summoned and bound. They almost never look like something you’d mistake for a person.”

_That’s because your eyes trick you, and either spirit or demon in human form, would be wise enough not to admit what they are in a place full of templars._

“Normally, you would be correct. But Cole has wilfully manifested in human form without possessing anyone.”

She nodded at my statement before continuing. “The demons who came through the Breach, or through the rifts, weren’t possessing anyone.”

I felt my body grow cold and Fen’Harel’s hackles raised at the thought of what Corypheus had done. I think my tone reflected the icy feelings though I couldn’t be too sure. “Those demons were drawn through against their will, driven mad by this world. But Cole predates the Breach. From what we can tell, he has lived here for months, perhaps years.”

_Just one more push, I can see her opened mind expanding._

“He looks like a young man. For all intents and purposes, he is a young man. It is remarkable.”

Ellana’s gaze softened and she shifted her weight. “I should hear what Cole has to say for himself. Where is he now?”

“If none of us remember him, he could be anywhere…” Cassandra shifted her eyes with great unease as if she expected the young man to jump out like a viper and gut her.

The Fade crackled and lashed my gaze to the left where I looked off toward the tents were the injured lay. There, walking among them with soundless footsteps, padded Cole. He would occasionally stop and bend down to say a few whispering words to a wounded soldier. Then Ellana slipped passed me, moving with graceful determination to where Cole stood. I smiled, my eyes tracing the curvature of her full hips and round ass once more.

_Perhaps there is a small amount of hope yet…_

 

As I neared the new tavern, I heard the clank of plate armour and turned to see Cassandra jogging to catch up. I dipped my head in polite respect. “Seeker?”

“Solas,” Cassandra puffed out and I slowed for her to catch her breath. “If you do not mind me asking, what do you believe in?”

I suspected she asked this because of how I handled Cole in front of the Inquisitor. Opening the tavern door, I gestured for her to enter before me. “Cause and effect. Wisdom as its own reward, and the inherent right of all free willed people to exist.”

“That is not what I meant.” Cassandra walked passed me with a shake of her head.

I entered after her, listening to the creaking hinges as the door swung close behind us. “I know. I believe the elven gods existed, as did the old gods of Tevinter. But I do not think any of them were gods, unless you expand the definition of the word to the point of absurdity. I appreciate the idea of your Maker, a god that does not need to prove his power. I wish more such gods felt the same.”

_Like the Evanuris… and – to that extend – myself. Though I am not a god despite what the Dalish believe!_

“You have seen much sadness in your journeys, Solas. Following the Maker might offer some hope.” Cassandra remarked as she followed me up to the bar.

I glanced at her knowing that I couldn’t keep such sadness from the perceptions of those who were keen minded. “I have people, Seeker. The greatest triumph and tragedies this world has known can be traced to people.”

Ordering a drink, I leaned back in the chair and took a long draw, enjoying the prickling warmth that the concoction stirred. “I sense the answer bothers you, Seeker. How many I help ease your concern?”

She took a swig before staring deep into the dark liquid sloshing in her mug. “Just thinking about all the triumphs and tragedies you have seen…and you still believe in people?”  
My eyes clouded in thought, reliving the world as I saw it; the world I assisted in shaping. “People are flawed, Seeker, but it is within their attempts to change that true beauty is captured. Despite everything I have seen, I find people remarkable.”

Cassandra blinked several times before shaking her head. “Your praise for us is astounding, Solas. Sometimes, I wonder how you truly think.”

“As does your actions astonish me, Seeker. And you are not the first to wish for a glance into my way of thinking. However, I warn you to tread cautiously. To attempt to understand me is to walk a fine line in your beliefs. For I have seen things that could shake the very foundations that your Maker stands on.”

She grimaced. “On second thought, I think I’ll hold off for now.”

A faint smile touched my lips. “That is a wise decision, Seeker.”

We sat in silence for most of the night, drinking and enjoying each other’s company. She wasn’t a terrible woman. In fact, I admired her greatly. She stood firm for what she believed in as I did. It was people like her that I wouldn’t relish in killing, but this was bigger than my wants in life. Cassandra retired before I did, and I nursed my mug until the wee hours into the morning.

My thoughts soon turned to an elegant, raven haired and sapphire blue eyed elven lass. Her skin felt finer than velvet and her fragrance made me ravenous. Lifting my fingers, I ran them over my lips recalling the soft press of hers against mine.

“I cannot deny this want, Lethallan.” I whispered to no one but the Ellana looking back at me in my mind’s eye. “You undo me…”

Finishing off my third…no wait…fourth? Honestly, I lost count after the sixth mug and I frowned at the dregs sloshing in it now.

_Time for bed…_

Sleep would not come easily, not when all I could do is think of Ellana; her glorious full lips pulled in a welcoming smile, the taste of her skin, the sound of her bell-like laughter…her graceful dance whenever she cast a spell. No matter how wonderful and terrible these feelings were, I couldn’t deny them to myself. For now, however, I would keep them to myself, until such an appropriate time presented itself that I would make them known.

_Ar lath ma vhenan, Ellana…_


	12. Convention Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not posting a chapter this Friday.

As most of you know this is Memorial Day Weekend, well, for me this is also Balticon 51. Balticon is a Science Fiction and Fantasy Convention that is geared toward literature. This is my writing convention I always make sure to attend.

So if anyone of you are attending this Convention and would like to come find me just ask where I'll be... Most likely at workshops or panels.

Also, my Editor gave me a deadline on my personal fiction so I've been typing away to meet that deadline. If you're curious as to what I write that is not Lathbora, please feel free to ask as well.

Finally, I've been replaying Origins as a female elf mage to pick up the subtle nuances that I didn't catch the first run through.

The next chapter of Lathbora should be posted next Friday as I feel my readers deserve a non-rushed chapter. Once my novel deadline has past I'll be able to rebuild my buffer.

Thank you guys for supporting me by reading and enjoying Lathbora!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thank those who understand that I couldn't give you this chapter last week. It would've been a disservice had I rushed through all its intricate emotions. That and I am also under a lot of stress editing my own personal work for my Editor. I do know that as an Elven Inquisitor the player knows what is said between Solas and the spirit so I have placed it here:
> 
> Solas: I'm sorry.  
> Spirit: I'm not. I'm happy. I'm me again.  
> Spirit: You helped me. Now you must endure. Guide me into death.  
> Solas: As you say.
> 
> This personal quest really wounded Solas.

Ink and decay swirled around me as I invaded the Fade with a determined spring in my step.

_**No! Don’t touch me!** _

It was the voice that propelled me forward, and surrounded me within the clouds of mist. Traveling deeper from the world of the living, the voice split off into multiple sounds. All of them beckoned to me, because I knew who they belonged to. If sweat existed in the Fade, my skin would be dripping, but my eyes quivered and my jaw fell slack.

Something was very wrong.

_**No! Leave me alone!** _

_Hold on…I’m coming to find you!_

My hands raked over the spirits and wisps that tried to bar my way, despite it not being their intent. All previous thoughts of the gorgeous Inquisitor fled my mind once I found sleep, replaced with the desperate cries of a friend I knew for far longer. They were fainter now as I neared the place where my friend dwelled.

Upon reaching the spot, I ground to a halt, my fears now realized. The space in the Fade was no longer occupied. Only the dead whispers of their essence circled me now, carrying with a stranger energy, more invasive and electric than the calming presence of the Fade. Falling to my knees, I cradled my head wanting to silence the painful echoes of my friend. The remains of a magical struggle soured the air and I snarled smelling acrid sulphur. There was only one creature capable of performing such a despicable act and force a spirit from their home in the Fade.

However, their purpose was unknown to me.

Hours passed as I sat anchored to the spot in the Fade casting spells of calling to track down wherever my friend was taken. Meditation helped clear my mind long enough to form the small strands of a plan until the draught wore off.

**. . .**

I sank into the plush, high-backed chair at my desk and nursed the cup of herbal tea in my hands. Curls of steam ribboned upward in a dance meant to draw my attention, but nothing to calm the anxiety. Releasing a long sigh, I took a sip of the minty concoction.

My stomach pitched without a knot of warning causing me to wince, and shake my head. The action alone worked to keep from throwing my breakfast up and onto the desk. Sneering, I set the cup down and hissed into my hand. Whoever thought tea was a good idea to relax one’s mind clearly had no discernible palate for taste.

“Something wrong with your tea?” Ellana asked as she walked in. I’m sure she meant it as a joke, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile. Even for her.

“It is tea,” I glanced up at her, feeling too drained to exhibit much in the way of emotions. “I detest the stuff. But this morning, I need to shake the dreams from my mind. I may also need a favour.”

_If anyone can understand…please be the one…_

A soft smile pulled up Ellana’s features as she looked down at me. “You just have to ask.”

Rising from my chair, I turn to face her. “One of my oldest friend has been captured by mages. Forced into slavery. I heard the cry for help as I slept.”

Flashes of my last visit into the Fade surfaced and for a moment, I felt as if I returned there. It was Ellana’s soft tones that brought me to the present.

“I’d be happy to help.” Concern clouded her gaze and determination. I loved the intensity of her emotions. “What did these mages use to capture your friend? Blood magic?”

“A summoning circle, I would imagine.” I felt my throat loose a sigh along with the answer. There was a chance that Ellana would still back out now that she knew I asked to rescue no human or elf.

“I’m sorry?” She asked immediately.

_Here is the live or die moment, so to speak._

Taking a deep breath – remembering her prior curiosity about the spirits – I opened my mouth, “My friend is a spirit of Wisdom. Unlike the spirits clamouring to enter our world through the rifts, it was dwelling quite happily in the Fade. It was summoned against its will, and wants my help to gain its freedom and return to the Fade.”

Her gaze darkened and though I worked hard to not display a break in the mask I wore, each passing beat of my heart that she didn’t speak was closer to agony.

“I thought spirits wanted to find their way into this world?”

A smile broke through my mask. Her curiosity, again. _By the Creators but I do so love that of her._

“Some do, certainly.” I answered hearing just a hint of desperation in my tone. Small curls of nausea threatened their way up my stomach. “Just as many Orlesian peasants wish they could journey to exotic Rivain. But not everyone wants to go to Rivain. My friend is an explorer seeking lost wisdom and reflecting it. It would happily discuss philosophy with you. It had no wish to come here physically.”

My heart almost punched a hole in my chest. I wanted this woman who I was growing to love to understand the nature of my friend, and the seriousness of what had transpired. She once told me that she believed spirits were people too despite most not owning a physical body. Would she turn me away now?

“Do you have any idea what the mages want with your friend?”

Another question! This was as maddening as it was delightful. She hadn’t said no, and yet… _No! I must believe in her._

“No.” I replied firmly. “It knows a great deal of lore and history, but a mage could learn that simply by speaking to it in the Fade. It is possible that they seek information it does not wish to give and intend to torture it.”

“Alright.” Ellana said after a minute to let everything I said sink in. “Let’s go get your friend.”

_Creators but I love this woman!_ I felt the muscles in my leg spring forward to grab her into a hug, layer her with kisses…anything to show her my gratitude. But only my mind’s eyes replayed such a scenario. I stood rooted to my spot standing before her, but I allowed emotions of relief to show.

My eyebrows rose, smoothing over the lines of anxiety that were built up from many exhausting lifetimes, and my lips twitched in a small smile. “Thank you! I got a sense of my friend’s location before I awoke. I’ll mark it on our map.”

 

**. . .**

 

The golden fields of the Exalted Plains spread vast and welcoming under a cloudless sky. Cicadas and crickets buzzed happy to be free hiding within the blades of tall grasses. Wildflowers perfumed the area as it was just the beginning of pollenating season. Were nothing else weighing on my mind, this would’ve been the perfect place to get lost in Ellana’s midnight hair and sapphire eyes. But like a wolf, my focus was zoomed and my destination set.

Intense Fade energy engulfed the area, growing even more powerful the closer we got to the rocks and ocean. My nostrils flared seeing the hulking shape chained to the ground with lightning and pain. I snarled and set off toward my friend, not wanting to go too close but fighting the will to thrust a dagger to end the pain that ricocheted throughout my mind.

My friend was crying.

I stopped short, eyes never leaving the twisted, monstrous shape even as the crunching of grass told me the Inquisitor joined my side. “My friend.”

Spikes rent through the sky, rising proudly along the hulking creature, more beast than spirit now. It knelt. It wept. The agony exuding from it tore at my being. Screams and pleas bombarded me, begging for forgiveness and wishing for death.

Mana surface, tingling electric currents along the exterior of my skin, but this time I ignored the eroticism it brought and the pull toward the Inquisitor’s Anchor.

_Where the fuck are those mages! I’ll see them burn in the Black City for this!_

“The mages turned your friend into a demon.” Ellana’s words washed over me in a balm meant for soothing, and it might have, if the anger wasn’t so hot within.

Turning my attention to my gloves, I pulled them straight, imagining it were the mages I pulled and wrung along my wrists. “Yes.”

“You said it was a spirit of Wisdom, not a fighter.” Her voice remained soft, not accusing at all.

_**She’s a mage, Solas… she should pay as well.** _

_Shut the fuck up…Dread Wolf!_

_**But–** _

_ENOUGH! I will not allow you to blame Ellana for this! Those bloody mages will pay!_

Snapping up my eyes, I glared daggers at her, but it was the only anger I would dare let cross her shadow. “A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

_**Like you… like me…** _

I ignored the Wolf’s egging. Fen’Harel wouldn’t be happy until everyone lay broken at my feet. I wasn’t that person… _anymore._

Ellana tore her gaze from me, back toward my friend. My gaze followed hers and I winced at the sight of torture. “So they summoned it for something so opposed to its own nature that it was corrupted. Fighting?”

The sound of a slipper scuffing the rocks drew our attention to a stocky man with cropped dark hair and mage robes, walking toward us. His posture was that of a person exhausted from a drawn out fight. When he laid eyes on us, the relief reflected within was damn near palpable. He walked tentatively toward us as if not sure if we were real or an illusion.

“Let us ask them.” I spat the words as venom and clenched both fists at my side.

Shards of electricity popped along each knuckle under my leather gloves and I bit down hard on my tongue to keep from immediately attacking the fool who sought us out. _Stupid human! You know nothing…are nothing to me!_

“A mage!” The human called out. Even his tone ground at my patience. “You aren’t with the bandits? Do you have any lyrium potions? Most of us are exhausted. We’ve been fighting that demon…”

The dam inside broke and I shook visibly with rage. “You summoned that demon! Except it was a spirit of Wisdom at the time. You made it kill. You twisted it against its purpose.”

The mage sighed and hung his head, but I felt no sympathy. This was personal. _Ignorant child knew nothing about the plight of spirits!_

He shifted from side to side with a nervous and sorrowful look across his facial features, but he seemed more concerned for himself than the creature he hurt. “I…I…I understand how it might be confusing to someone who has not studied demons, but after you help us, I can…”

_Bastard! Fucking bastard!_ The Wolf grew inside me, seething for vengeance that I was seconds away from giving. Only the presence of the Inquisitor kept me from leaping and tearing the throat clean from the mage, and forcing his companions whose faces I saw off in the distance, to eat it.

“We’re not here to help _you_.” I could no longer contain a calm demeanour. Who stood beside the Inquisitor was no longer Solas but Fen’Harel and this creature deserved everything I was going to deliver.

Turning my head, I gave Ellana a pleading look. She needed to stop me from myself. All it took was one glance into my eyes and the Inquisitor turned to address the mage, her voice friendlier than mine but showing no sympathy for the human.

“Word of advice? I’d hold off on explaining how demons work to my friend here.”

Crossing my arms over my chest kept me from summoning up my magic, and rip into this mage. I narrowed my gaze and tried to focus on the hot electricity burning across the bits of metal embedded in my armoured robes. Thankfully, with the staff still strapped to my back, I couldn’t bash him repeatedly into the ground where he stood. My eyes trailed off to where my friend moaned and whimpered.

“Listen to me!” The mage pleaded, turning to reason with the Inquisitor as I made it pretty clear, I would not heed his words. “I was one of the foremost experts in the Kirkwall Circle–”

“Shut. Up.” The words clipped like acid pooling in my mouth. My hands fell to my sides and I shifted my weight readying the mana to pulsate through the mage’s heart and let him feel the torture my friend felt…as did I. “You summoned it to protect you from the bandits.

The mage raised his head, a pitiful look in his eyes. “I–Yes.”

“You bound it to obedience. Then commanded it to kill. _That_ is when it turned.” I snarled.

_**Solas…control yourself…** _

_Fenedhis lasa! You told me to kill him! You want me to unleash my powers! You–_

_**Not at the expense of your nature, Solas!** _

Anger flared up with the very presence of this sickening creature fanning the flames. But, the Wolf was right. If I lost control now…

“The summoning circle.” I stared solely at Ellana and allowed her sweet face to anchor me back to this world. “We break it, we break the binding. No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

“What?” The mage gasped, clasping his hands in front of him. “The binding is the only thing keeping the demon from killing us! Whatever it was before, it is a monster now!”

_No! We are not monster!_

Desperations laced the rage. If Ellana refused to help, I would kill the mage and any who got between my friend and me. Keeping it in the binding was no mercy. And this mage would see no reason! There was only one person who could.

“Inquisitor. Please!”

And her attention was completely on me. Her beautiful face calm even though I saw the storm swirling inside those tempestuous eyes. She spoke in such a gently tone, drawing me from the abyss of my hatred.

“I’ve studied rituals like this. I should be able to disrupt the binding quickly.”

I let loose a laborious sigh and nodded. “Thank you.”

Pain quickly pulled me toward my friend and I watched as it stood up and roared, spreading its claws for another terrible dance. Lightning laced between its sinewy fingers and scissoring talons, and a wave of hunger twisted a gnarled root in my gut. I grimaced knowing what I felt was only the cast offs of the spirit’s immediate pain. Time was growing short.

“We must hurry!” I shouted as I sprinted toward the first white spire that formed the summoning circle.

Mana leapt to my fingertips and I tore my staff from its bindings across my back. Twirling it in the air, I released all the rage held pent up from the confrontation with the mage, into their damned summoning circle. I was rewarded with a crisp clap of thunder from the sky as a bolt of lightning cracked onto the spire’s tip.

Beside me, a shadow flew through the air just as it did that first night encountering the Breach, and Ellana joined me in breaking down the spires. An old incantation whispered from her lips, weakening the summoning circle’s power and releasing my friend.

Twisted as it was, the demon no longer recognized who I was, and it leapt to where we stood with every intent to kill.

_Hold on a little longer…we will free you._

One by one the spires fell from the savage persistence of our attacks. The mages were nowhere in sight, which at that moment, was for the best. I still didn’t know how I was going to handle them once their circle was lifted. Maybe once my friend was free, my anger would fade with it. Maybe…

As the last of the summoning spires crumbled away, the demon howled and dropped into the water. I waited with my breath seized inside my lungs. I felt like I teetered on the edge of a cliff where one side was despair and the other, happiness. The shape of the demon melted away to show a spirit who appeared very much like a human woman.

I knelt down to her and waved the Fade reflect from her eyes. Still she cried.

“Lethallin. Ir abelas.” Seeing the painful scars imprinted in her mind made my heart ache.

_**“Tel’abelas. Enasal. Ir Tel’him.”**_ She bowed and shook her head, and I saw the raw spirit bared before me. _**“Ma melava halani. Mala sueldin nadas. Ma ghilana mir din’an.”**_

Closing my eyes, I tore my gaze away. We were too late to save her. Sitting in the water, the spirit shook as a fragile child. Fear and torment at being out of the Fade, forced to kill for cruel masters that never listened to her sobs. She knew I would listen, and so she begged me to end it.

Most people could never understand, because of the hardness in their hearts, that spirits do die. Though spirits rarely drew away from the purpose that forged them – many didn’t crave to feel physical touch or know intimacy – that didn’t excuse them from feeling.

My heart cracked another fragment, and with so filled with such a plethora of scars, it was a wonder that it didn’t break in half. I sighed so deep, the shudders wracked my shoulders and I wanted to cry. Begged myself to let loose those tears. But millennia of training dictated that I wait until I was alone. The sorrow, however, raw surfaced in my eyes as I glanced back up at my friend.

“Ma nuvenin.”

Calling forth the mana I knew so well, I swept my hands toward me and killed the spirit. Her essence tangled between me and the Fade before dispersing into the wind with a hint of a smile on her lips. I crouched there lost in the space of the ocean where my friend no longer sat. Dread settled like a suffocating blanket over my heart and dulled my mind.

“Dareth shiral.” I said, turning my head slightly toward where Ellana stood behind me.

“I heard what it said. It was right. You did help it.”

The sorrow and warmth of her voice wrapped itself around me, holding me tight and I felt the anger lessen a little.

“Now I must endure.” I whispered, my voice quavering under the pain, as I took to my feet.

“Let me know if I can help.” She offered.

_Hold me…kiss me…don’t leave me to die alone…_

Instead, I faced her and closed the distance between us with a sad smile on my lips. “You already have.”

Footsteps crunched the grass beside me, plucking at my heartstrings. We were not finished yet. My friend could not be laid to rest.

“All that remains now is them.” Steel shaped the expression of my mask and I felt my throat tighten, my hackles raise, like a cornered animal with nothing left to lose.  
Of course the damned mage that led his other two friends approached me. As if making me see reason would save them.

“Thank you. We would not have risked a summoning, but the roads are too dangerous to travel unprotected.”

His words mocked me, falling on deaf ears. The Wolf wriggled wanting their flesh as much as I did. I did not fight the urge.

_**Careful, Solas…**_ Was all he said to me.

“You tortured and killed my friend.” Taking confident steps, I backed them against the rocks. Malice laced my mind like a white, hot poison.

Their leader shook his head, and I smell fear rancid on his sweat-drenched flesh. He didn’t reach for his staff and struggled with words he hoped would calm my frenzied state of mind. Only one person could stop me from my path, and I prayed she wouldn’t.

“We didn’t know it was just a spirit! The book said it could help us!”

The three mages cowered before me and even begged to Ellana to call me off. She said nothing and so I unleashed the flames that pulled at my palms. Fire seared flesh, soaking into their bodies and crushed their hearts. Watching without pity, I savoured the terror that glazed over into death. Yet, I didn’t relish in my victory as the bodies of the mages crumpled at my feet, instead I felt hollow inside.

“Damn them all.” I spat on the ground letting the darkness consume me. I knew what had to come next if I was to be of any help to the Inquisitor. “I need some time alone. I will meet you back at Skyhold.”

Without another word or glance back, I walked in the opposite direction. Ellana couldn’t see me like this…I didn’t want her to see the monster inside.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second romance seen we see in the game. It will only get hotter from here on out!

Curls of ink and emerald wrapped my spirit up in a calming shell. As I sat cross-legged at the edge of the Fade where my friend once lived, I focused on centering myself. All around the spirits and Fade beings glided by me without a passing glance, and I barely took notice of their movement. Opening my eyes I stared at the spot again and traced the spirals of energy dancing happily.

Ellana’s hand slides behind my neck and pulls my head toward her…and those kissable lips…

I shook my head to banish the memory. This was hardly the time to think of her when I was mourning a dear friend. The strand of energy pulsed a bright green, then blue as if making words to string into conversation. It was young and beat in an excited tempo as a new creature exploring its world.

_“…felt the whole world change?”_

_“A figure of speech.”_

_“I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in felt.”_

_“You change…everything.”_

_“Sweet talker.”_

I blinked my eyes rapidly, bringing the Fade back into my vision. Every pore, every single strand of hair on the back of my arms and neck, rose stiff and high. Even staring at the energy, I thought I saw it split into two shapes, forming two elves that danced around each other. My eyes followed the shapes interweaving around, between, inside each other, and my breath hitched.

Her palm, soft and calloused from years gripping her staff, ran along my cheek as fireflies blinked as stars in the meadow we sat in. At the edge of the forest, and Clan Lavellan, we drank in the other’s presence not caring that, at any moment, we could get caught by one of the clan’s hunters. Her eyes sparkled as sapphires in the firefly light.

_“I may also need a favour.”_

_“You just have to ask.”_

The Fade Haven swirled in a circle through my vision as I locked onto those perfect, full lips. Ellana was closing her eyes now, and leaning toward me.

_“Alright. Let’s go get your friend.”_

_“Thank you!”_

Ellana flew through the smoke and ash of mage fire and melee fighting. Every strike with her staff hit in a precise dance, meeting its careful mark on the demons hide. Overhead the sharp, green brilliance of the Breach blocked out the natural light from the moon. The putrid stench of the dead and dying smothered the air, and yet, my eyes wouldn’t leave the lithe form of the elven mage hell bent to close the large rift.

I stopped short, my jaw fell open slack and my eyes quivered at the sight of my friend chained and bound by bolts of lightning. Six spires made of stone tore as claws through the sky and, every few seconds, waves of electricity crackled up and down their lengths, and my friend would grunt in pain.

_“Inquisitor! Please!”_

Her arms wrapped around my neck and mine found her waist, pulling her in and allowing our lips to meet. Our jaws worked, tongues sucked greedy for just another taste. The blood in my veins sang, melting against her warm body.

Memories flooded one after another all working, out of order, toward an inevitable climax. In the beginning they were fresh and crisp, but they slowly melded into a series of deep emotions and vibrant colours until I was breathless at their revelation. When they ended, I relaxed back and noticed that the tiny energy also calmed.

A ghost of a smile flickered upon my lips and I stood up, giving a slight bow of my head toward the swirling energy. “Ma serannas, Lethallin. You are very right.”

It pulsed its reply and I allowed myself to wake up.

**. . .**

 

Skyhold’s impressive gates opened without hesitation for me and, as I entered the fortress, I noticed Ellana descending down its stone steps. As if fate intervened. Her eyes fell upon me, and a smile lit her exquisite face. Her delicate calf muscles bunched, giving a spring to her step as she rushed to greet me.

“Inquisitor.” I greeted trying to put the thoughts and memories behind me.

“How are you, Solas?”

My heart skipped hearing the melody of her voice as she spoke.

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.” I could hear the cracking in my tone.

Her face fell, and sorrow laced her eyes as she stared at me. “Thank you for coming back.”

A tingling sensation sparked along my lip and fingertips thinking about what we’ve been through already. “You were a true friend. You did everything you could to help. I could hardly abandon you now.”

“Where did you go?” Ellana asked in a genuine tone.

“I found a quiet spot and went to sleep. I visited the place in the Fade where my friend used to be.” I relived a lifetime with you…us. “It’s empty, but there are stirrings of energy in the Void. Someday something new may grow there.”

Curiosity reflected from her eyes, but there was slight hesitation when she asked her next question. “What happens when a spirit dies?”

_Our ethereal forms cease to exist in a sense…_ “It isn’t the same as for mortals. The energy of spirits returns to the Fade. If the idea giving the spirit form is strong, or if the memory has shaped other spirits, it may someday rise again."

“You’re saying your friend might come back?” There was a gentle hope in her tone that sought to calm my pain, and I appreciated her attempt.

“No, not really. A spirit’s natural state is peaceful semi-existence. It is rare to be able to reflect reality. Something similar may reform one day, but it might have a different personality. It would likely not remember me. It would not be the friend I knew.”

I watched as her fingers twitched at her side as if seeking to touch me. Part of me wished she did, but I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate given what happened. I didn’t trust that I could pull away if she did, and kissing in Skyhold’s courtyard wouldn’t be a wise idea. No doubt it would set tongues wagging and Varric to start another book, if he hadn’t done so about the Inquisition already.

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”

_How I wish it was that easy, Lethallan…that I could abandon myself in your presence without consequence._

I lowered my head. “It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

“I know.”

Lifting my head, I stared at her, a little taken aback by her agreeing with me so readily. “I’ll work on it. And thank you.”

“Inquisitor!”

We both looked across the courtyard to see Commander Cullen bounding over with some parchments in his hand. As she turned her full attention toward him, I ducked out of their way and toward the tavern. Perhaps another drink or maybe just the company of loud voices to distract my careless thoughts; I don’t know exactly what drove me to the bar or up the stairs.

“I am sorry your friend died, Solas.”

I stopped short seeing the young, blonde haired assassin sitting on the railing of the second floor in the tavern with his feet dangling off. His light blue eyes were clouded as they fell upon my form. Before I knew what I was doing, I had climbed the stairs to stand next to the boy. His sorrow was heavy.

“Thank you, Cole.” I said hearing the thread tone in my voice return.

It was as if hearing this spirit of compassion speak, created a raw cavern inside. Maybe because he reminded me of the friend I lost.

“I didn’t know there were spirits of wisdom.” Cole remarked, kicking his feet in the air and gazing at them as he did so.

Leaning forward I braced my forearms on the railing and watched the patrons laughing, singing off key with the bar, and otherwise engaged in their everyday lives. It felt good being a spectator to their revelry and the boy’s energy washed over me warm and inviting.

“There are few. Spirits form as a reflection of this world and its passions. We will never lack for the spirits of rage, or hunger, or desire. The world gives them plenty to mirror. The gentler spirits are far more rare. We can ill afford the loss of even one spirit of wisdom, or faith…or compassion.”

I directed the last to Cole specifically. Whether the boy knew his intrinsic value to this world was of great importance to myself. We couldn’t afford to lose him to this world.

Cole remained silent for a few heartbeats, and I barely picked up the steady rise and fall of his breathing. For a moment, his eyes glazed over staring at the candlelight radiating from the chandelier. Maybe he didn’t think much of his vital part in the fabric of this world, or maybe he just didn’t feel worthy of it. The deep seated sorrow from him made me think that something really did try to destroy him long ago.

“I will try not to die.” He spoke in a soft voice, almost a whisper, and it created a smile on my face.

“Do that, please.” I answered with sincerity.

He gave me and faint smile before fading and leaving me alone with my dark thoughts.

_**You can’t afford to be alone, Solas…** _

_I know._

But the more I stood there, watching the bustle of people down below, the more I felt claustrophobic. Many of the rowdy were mages, human mages, and I gritted my teeth remembering the cowering mages who destroyed my friend. Mana bled to the surface of my fingertips and I itched to lash out at the mages. Any mage could do what those humans did to another spirit or even Cole. Vivienne already expressed her hatred for the boy’s presence. She didn’t understand.

None of them did.

I forced myself from where I stood and took the steps down two are a time until they led me to the barkeep. Ordering a few bottles of the strongest the dwarf had brewed that night, I retreated back to my room.

The familiar scent of paint, copper and earth wafted up in a welcomed greeting and, sighing, I relaxed into my high-backed chair. Uncorking the first bottle, I worked to rid myself of all my nightmares.

 

**. . .**

 

“Bright and brilliant, he wanders the ways, walking unwaking, searching for wisdom…”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and shot an annoyed glance at the blonde assassin who entered my room with his arms crossed.

“I do not need you to do that, Cole.”

_Don’t root through my mind, please!_

Cole looked up and cocked his head at an angle toward me. “Your friend wanted you to be happy, even though she knew you wouldn’t be.”

Setting down the second half-empty bottle, I sighed, knowing that the spirit boy just wanted to help and didn’t think he was causing any harm. “Could you…if you would remember her, could you do it as I would?”

_Not my thoughts…do not voice my feelings!_

The tone in Cole’s voice dropped as he recited the next words as a person might a play. “He comes to me as though the Fade were just another wooded path to walk without a care in search of wisdom.”

I closed my eyes relishing in the imagery the boy’s soft tone yielded.

“We share the ancient mysteries, the feelings lost, forgotten dreams, unseen for ages, now beheld in wonder. In his own way, he knew wisdom, as no man or spirit had before.”

As his voice faded, I slowly opened my eyes, catching the Inquisitor leaning against the doorway, watching the both of us.

“Thank you.” I said as much to Cole as I did to Ellana.

“That was lovely, Cole.”

The young man turned and nodded toward the raven-haired elf, then to me, before he swept out of my room without a word. I stood up and walked out from behind my desk just as Ellana stepped into the rotunda’s center.

“Inquisitor. I was…” _Just thinking about you…_ “Do you have a moment?”

She raised a curious brow and her nose scrunched in that cute way that stole my breath from my lungs. “Of course.”

Gesturing, I led her up to the tower where her bedroom resided, once it was my room, but that was many lifetimes ago. My eyes swept over the plush green and red carpet over a polished wooden flooring. The old stained glass of halla and wolves in the window panes were replaced with the steady rise of forest and herd animals that symbolized the modern day Dalish. Though similar, there were still distinct differences but it lightened my heart that the Inquisitor still honoured her clan.

A stylish white leather sofa pressed up against the wooden railing opposite of the intricately carved desk piled high with requisition forms and tomes, next to the fireplace, now smoldering with the cooling remnants of a fire. Then my eyes fell on the gold and scarlet bed, large enough for two, possibly three inhabitants to lay down with curtains gathered on the bedposts ready to be freed for needed privacy. I blushed as my thoughts began working away from the chaste questions I intended.

Immediately I broke for the marble balcony where there was fresh air and not as much blatant temptation. I heard the whisper of footsteps as the Inquisitor followed me.

“What were you like before the Anchor?” I asked, turning to address her.

Though I knew the answer from my own experiences, I needed to hear how she thought of herself. Before I left Clan Levallan, I burned my residual from her mind, because I couldn’t bare lying to her. Even now, I felt the press of the danger Ellana threatened to bring if I pursued this, but I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to make her forget…again.

At my question, Ellana looked at the palm which held the Anchor. Such intensity and fear rivalled for dominance in her eyes, but she glanced back up at me before either motion won.

“Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, you…spirit?” _Your feelings toward me?_

I let that thought go unvoiced.

A gentle smile tugged up her lips. “If it had, do you really think I’d have noticed?”

_Has it corrupted you…?_

“No. That’s an excellent point.” I found myself admitting.

Her eyes sparkled, “Why do you ask?”

_Because it’s my orb. I’m Fen’Harel. The Dread Wolf. Because I’m the reason behind the Breach, and Corypheus’ rise to power and –_

“You show a wisdom I have not seen since…” _My friend, General Aly’xin, led the Elvhen out of this place when I brought down the Veil. Since myself and the Evanuris won the war against – “Since my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the Fade.”_

I kept my eyes to the ground for fear she might see the truth I eluded for a fraction of a second before lifting my gaze to search hers. “You are not what I expected.”

_But everything I find myself **needing**._

Ellana chuckled and tilted her head. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“It’s not disappointing, it’s…” I sighed. I didn’t want to upset her, but I was never good and voicing my raw feeling. “Most people are predictable. You have shown subtlety in your actions, a wisdom that goes against everything I expected. If the Dalish could raise someone with a spirit like yours…have I misjudged them?”

For a moment, Ellana held her tongue and I knew she tried to think of what answer to give. Then that smile returned. “I don’t hold the Dalish up as perfect, but we have something worth honouring. A memory of the ancient ways.”

“Perhaps that is it.” I nodded in agreement. “I suppose it must be. Most people act with so little understanding of the world. But not you.”

“So what does this mean, Solas?”

Heat rushed up to colour my cheeks as I voiced the answer internally as immediately as I did aloud. “It means I have not forgotten the kiss.”

Ellana took steps to close the distance between us and I noticed the pink painting along her cheeks too. “Good.”

As she neared, she clasped her hands behind her back and leaned into me. I could feel the heat rising from her breasts and the smell of perfume and femininity hit hard enough to stiffen my cock. I sucked in a deep breath and shook my head. I couldn’t breathe.

_This isn’t right._

I turned to leave. I said my peace to her, didn’t I? If I stayed much longer –

Pressure clamped down on my elbow and she stopped me from leaving.

“Don’t go.”

That silky voice wracked my body with delicious shivers that practically paralyzed me. I shook my head, trying to figure out the right course of action. Here this woman begged for my attention, and she was so different from the others before.

“It would be kinder in the long run.” Just as I was able to do so when I left her clan. But… “But losing you would…”

Our lip met and I snaked my arms about her waist, crushing her body to mine. She stiffened for a second before melting into me, her hands grazing my hips. I thrust my erection against the inside of her hip, growling at the agonizing friction it gave. A deep moan erupted from the hollow of her throat and she parted her teeth to allow my tongue inside.

The kiss brought back all the blissful nights we stole away from her clan for just the two of us. Lovers getting to know one another. Except now, Ellana knew my name, and I hadn’t lied to her.

Ellana gasped and trailed her fingertips down my broad shoulders, then my back, and I felt as if the heat from her skin would burn wounds into me. She tasted of honeyed-tea and so much better in reality than traveling in the Fade.

As she found my leather belt, Ellana pulled the tunic through and traced along the skin she revealed. I gasped, my hips jerking into her clothed thigh. I felt the metal buckle click and my belt loosened. My growl grew long and low and I laced my fingers into her dark curls, pulled her hair free from the bun she regularly kept it in. Silken tresses tumbled down over my fingers and I wrapped the strands in my hand. With the hair free, a bloom of perfumed soap found its way to my flared nostrils. I moaned.

_**If you continue Solas, you two won’t part til dawn.** _

Wolf’s cold voice shocked me like a bucket of ice water emptied on my back. My spine went as rigid as my cock and I broke the kiss. Ellana’s eyes opened up and I stared at her lips, swollen and glistening from our kiss. I wanted to stay. To make love to her.

But…I wasn’t ready.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan.” I whispered instead, and tore from her grasp before she could pull in for more.

_Fenedhis! Fenedhis! Fenedhis lasa!_

Right now wasn’t the best of times. I needed air. I needed to think!

My eyes settled back on her bed and my cock twitched in protest. Biting my tongue, I hastened my speed to get the hell out of there.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of what I'm writing is going to start diverting from the game we have played as we go deeper into the rabbit hole of Solas' mind. Remember that the events of the Inquisition are still happening but I'm just not emphasizing them as much since Solas is not the Inquisitor.
> 
> This chapter is all about a pivotal moment in Solas' past since he's a dream walker. It will give some answers and hopefully more questions, but I wanted to take the knife and twist deeper.

_Elfroot? Lavender?_

Warm sunlight coaxed me back to consciousness; my hand travelled down her ample hip and my body shuddered, relaxing against her back. Silk and velvet blankets enveloped us as did the sweet combination of sex.

_Sex?_

She moaned and rolled over, her arms encircled me, running sharp fingernails along my shoulder, trailing down my spine. I shivered and groaned.

“Morning, Solas.”

My eyes snapped open meeting her bright blue eyes sparkling with elation and love. I bolted upright, hearing the bed creak and bend to my quick motions. Plush blue and bronze draperies hung from the over-stuffed four poster bed to only let small rays of the winter sun in. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tried to reorient my senses.

_Yesterday…gods…I told Ellana I love her! Then I got drunk…_

Turning, I glanced down at the young, virile Elvhen lass who rested her head on the palm of her hand and stared up at me through half-lidded eyes. There was a glow along her cheeks which high-lighted the rich midnight of her hair. I groaned and let my head fall.

_…really drunk._

Dark, wavy strands of hair fell into my eyes and I let my breath out slow and even. She didn’t know where we were; not even an inkling that we are in the past.

**_You are in the Fade, Solas._ ** __

_I know that! Relieving a–_

_**Dream?** _

_NIGHTMARE!_

The Wolf’s harsh laugh echoed in my head. At least one of us enjoyed being tossed into the past. The problem was, when was I?

Lithe arms wrapped around my chest then slithered with great intent lower. Delicate hands traced the taut muscle of my abdomen, raising a trail of goose bumps in their wake. As one hand met the dark curls toward my cock, I snatched it up in my hand and brought it to my lips to give it a gentle peck on the palm.

“It feels like it’s been too long since we shared a bed, Ellana.” I said, wincing at why it had been so long. With my face turned from her, she couldn’t see the pain, pinched expression, and I blessed the gods for that.

Ellana giggled that bell-like laughter that haunted me in my dream walks more times than I comfortably could admit. “Silly halla, we made love a few hours ago, but if you want we can relive those moments again.”

Hot breath singed the tallest point of my ear followed by the scorching flick from her tongue along the edge. My cock hardened its response. It would be so easy to lose myself in the past, and succumb to whatever desire demon spun this addicting story.

**_Are you so sure it’s a desire demon?_ ** __

_No…I could be driving myself insane. This Ellana is gone._

_**But she lives again as the Inquisitor.** _

Pulling away, I slid the heavy drapes to the side and invited the sunlight in. Behind me, Ellana hissed having not acclimated to the light. I stared at the stained glass windows with their halla and wolves prancing in their motif. The pleasant mix of bronze and blue greeted me in the collection of furniture in the room. This was my tower, and no traces of the Inquisition were imprinted on the new fortress, yet.

My heart ached at the raw wounds seeing the images brought back. Traveling through the Fade to relive memories normally granted me small pleasures, but I always avoided these specific areas. They were never shadows to me.

“Is everything al–” Ellana began.

The broad oak door to my room, slammed open and I heard the familiar clank of armour. My heart dropped into my stomach and I felt the colour leech from my skin.

_I know this day…_

“Fen’Harel?”

Claustrophobia set in as I felt my body turn toward the speaker of its own volition even as my mind screamed to stop. Don’t engage. Go back to bed. Be sick! I was detached, divided between knowing the outcome, and being forced to relive its raw horrors.

“General Aly’xin, I assume you have a good reason for intruding into my private chambers while I have company.” I felt my mouth open and throat loosen as the words were said, and I began the spiral toward events that I desperately regretted.

“I would never invade your privacy for anything less.” The General stopped at the top of the stairs and bowed at the waist.

My eyes scanned the dappled green and gold plate armour the Elvhen wore. It was shaped and delicately carved to resemble a lush rendition of the forest. A blue cloak draped over one shoulder and I caught the stylist begins of the embroidered wolf’s head that symbolized my army. Like all who served me, the General lacked the intricate vallaslin that signified slavery to their perspective god.

Lifting his head and pushed the copper braid behind his shoulders, Aly’xin glanced over at the soft shuffling of slippers that came up behind me. His cheeks flushed and he quickly looked away.

“Pardon me, Lady Ellana, I didn’t mean this…”

“It is quite alright, General. Fen’Harel keeps no secrets from me.”

I could only watch as the conversation between the figures of my past spiralled down its dark, inevitable end. My mouth was not my own, and I became a passenger in my body as it carried through the motions. Aly’xin told me about the army that marched toward Tarasyl’an Te’las with the marked faces of June and Sylaise on each soldier. My eyes fell on Ellana who stood next to me watching for my orders.

So much love reflected from that gaze and I watched her hands come to rest on a swollen belly. I covered her hand with mine, pressing my forehead against hers. Closing my eyes, I drank deeply of her lavender and citrus perfume, and her warm femininity before I drew away and laid her hand on top of the General’s glove.

“Go with Aly’xin, Vhenan.” _No! Don’t let her go._

But these were shadows of the past so my warning fell on deaf ears. I watched as the General escorted her from my room. He turned and nodded his head before disappearing into the dawn. We both had mates who were heavy with child and I trusted that he would see Ellana to safety just as he would his own.

**_You should’ve kept her by your side, Solas._ ** __

_I know…but at that moment–_

_**I know.** _

Dressing in my own gold and emerald plate mail, I buckled the wolf pelt across one shoulder and pulled my hair up in a tight braid. Curling my fingers around my ebony staff, I descended the great stone steps to confront the army. All around Elvhen ran, clutching bundles, children and all manner of property as they prepared for evacuation.

Tarasyl’an Te’las was quickly emptying of its inhabitants leaving only the remnants of cooling breakfast and heavy luxuries that couldn’t be carried behind.

“Are you sure you won’t come with us, milord?” Aly’xin stopped at my side with a hand poised over his blade.

I sighed, my ears falling under the weight and sorrow wrapping around me. “This war will never end if I do not give them what they want, my friend.”

“Sacrificing yourself is _not_ the answer, Solas.” The General grabbed my shoulder and jerked me to stare into his forest green eyes. “Would you let your child grow up without its father?”

My eyes narrowed and I ripped my arm from his grasp. “I will _not_ let my child grow up in slavery to the Evanuris. Besides, I have a plan.”

“Solas?” Aly’xin called after my retreating form. “Fen’Harel!”

I turned my head enough so that he saw the raw energy blazing from my eyes. “I order you to get my people to freedom, General. Don’t disobey my will.”

I was too far to hear the man’s reply but no one reached out to grab me. Crossing into the courtyard, I saw saddles being placed on the halla and goods secured to ladened aravels. “Tuelanen ama na.” It was the only pray I could utter as I marched through the gates.

Watching as my body made its way to stand between the army and my people, I found I couldn’t look away. As if the action alone would dishonour the sacrifice as it unfolded. A practiced calm guided my fluid movements and a determined heart steeled my mind, quieting the silent screaming that took place even then.

I really had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but the Evanuris played their hand and I would play mine.

The army fanned out in front of me as scorching flames with each eye full of scorn and sorrow. Some soldiers looked on in regret and fear, but they knew and I knew, what their orders were. Above them astride majestic golden halla were the Evanuris in question. Upon seeing me, they held up their hands and called a halt to their infantry.

“Fen’Harel! You stand alone. Has your faithful abandoned you to the wolves?” June’s baritone voice, thick as honey, echoed over the battlefield filled with the sneer on his lips.

Pulling my shoulders back, I stared down the Elvhen who stood against me with my head held high. “I am the Dread Wolf, brother. I always walk alone.”

“We are here to make you stand down,” Sylaise spoke and I detected a sliver of remorse in her silk smooth voice.

A lilt that stung me as a hive of bees would.

“Did you give Mythal the same option?” Anger and frustration milked my tone. “Did you invade her sanctuary just to watch her death writhes?”

“We do not answer to you, Wolf!” June cried out, signalling to his men.

“Not yet…” I rushed headlong toward the army as they careened to meet me, “…but you will.”

The battle played out as brief as it was bloody. Elvhen fell at my sides, their blood slick and running down like droplets of fiery rain. I shed my form for the black wolf that brought fear into the hearts of men. With every soldier I cut down, I offered a prayer up to the Creators that they would find blessed peace, for the orders from an Evanuris are unbreakable whenever the vallaslin is worn.

Green grass became slick and red from the fresh corpses I dispatched. And still more replaced the fallen until the sun sat high and hot in the sky. I huffed and staggered feeling the weight of a hundred and growing deaths.

_Too much…too long._

Pain shot through my side as an Elvhen spear found its mark in my flanks. I bellowed and wobbled, but still managed to keep my balance. Whipping my great, black head around, I snapped down on the Elvhen’s neck and was rewarded with a sickening crunch and squelch of warm blood that coated my muzzle.

Another embedded into my hips and I reared up just as one flew to my heart. Growling, I forgave the misguided creature, but I would go to the Creators without fear, knowing I did everything I could for the Elvhen people.

A shadow darted in the spear’s path just as the tip hit, and a raven haired Elvhen fell to the ground. My eyes widened and I felt the whole world change.

She fell and so did I.

My arms were Elvhen as I scooped her up, my breath hitched in my throat. “No…”

Ellana reached up to brush her fingers along my cheek, a smile touching her bloodied lips.

“Why?” I couldn’t understand. “I told you to go.”

She coughed up blood and I winced seeing the shaft of the spear protruding from her belly. I placed a hand just under it and she hissed out, but didn’t yank my palm away. Instead, she pushed something round and cold next to my body. I looked down to see my foci glowing faint as it touched me. My gaze jumped back up at her.

“I won’t…let you…walk the Din’an Shiral…without me…ma vhenan.” Ellana touched the tip of my ear. “Ar mala lasan revas.”

I watched the light flee her eyes, replaced by blind nothingness. My body shook as I felt the mana I supressed rise up to the surface. Holding her to my chest, I howled and released a wave of energy through the army. Soldiers fell, flattened by its force.

Still astride their halla, June and Sylaise exchanged looks of unease, but they still did not call off the army.

The blood from Ellana and our child mixed with my wounds and began to glow and swirled around me. Without mumbling a word, the orb floated upward. I felt the energy surging, swelling, ready to break me, but there was no pain. I was passed feeling pain. All I wanted was to live in peace with a family. I never asked to be a warrior, king or a god. 

But the world never cared for what I wanted even when I retreated. The cries of the helpless always seemed to find me, to invade my seclusion.

“I didn’t want to…but you give me no choice.”

And I spoke the words that would change the course of Thedas. Blood swept and swirled up in the mana, weaving a web and seal that would never break.

. . .

Bolting upright, I clutched my pounding head. My body shook and felt as sticky as it was cold. Heaving lungfuls of air, I slowly looked around to see the familiar reliefs painted of the Inquisition’s progress. Only when my breath was steady did I settle against the headboard of my bed.

_Fenedhis!_

There wasn’t a tea strong enough to clear my mind after that. Why did I dream walk into my past, and that day especially?

“Are you alright, Solas?”

I jumped at the soft voice. The Inquisitor stood at the foot of my bed clutching the opening of her robe. Worry creased lines in her beautiful forehead and pressed a frown along her lush lips. My heart twisted at the memory and I tore my gaze to stare up at the ceiling. Dorian stared back down.

“You were making an awful racket.” The Tevinter also frowned despite the smarmy tone of his voice.

“Some of us need our beauty rest.” Came Vivienne’s sharp reply.

She leaned against the balcony with her arms crossed tight to her chest and that imperious glare.

_Of course I cannot freak out alone…even here I have an audience._

“Go back to bed you two. I think he’s calmed down.” Ellana commanded with a tone that suggested she did not approve of either one of their comments.

Neither protested, choosing to leave the two of us alone.

Returning her gaze to me, Ellana gave me a shaky smile and sank down on the edge of my bed. Her hand found mine and she squeezed it with reassurance. “Whatever happened, you are safe, Solas.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I pulled Ellana beside me and held her tight in my arms. She squeaked but didn’t push against me. With her warm body pressed on mine, I relaxed and remembered to exhale.

“I apologize for the fright I must have given you, Inquisitor.” I said, running fingers absently through her hair.

It felt wonderful to have her by me as if she didn’t just die in my nightmare. _My memories._

“You worried me, Solas. I’ve never seen you thrash about as you did, nor hear you scream like that. Was it a demon?”

“It might as well have been.” The words hissed from me and I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It is over now and I am recovering.”

Her hand fell on my chest and ran along the muscles beneath my robe. I shivered but didn’t move to stop her. The gesture was comforting and helped to ease the tension that built up in my body.

“Do you need to share what happened?” Ellana asked, plucking at the ties that kept my robe shut but didn’t work to loosen them.

_I can’t._

“No. I’d rather not relive it, even in the telling.” She wouldn’t believe me even if I tried.

For a while, we said nothing and I allowed the darkness to cradle me as I held her. She still smelled of lavender and citrus, but with a tongue of wilderness on her skin that refused to leave even after bathing. Her touch was still soft with an edge of curiosity, much like her mind.

I wondered if I was fortunate or damned, sitting here with my reincarnated lover beside me, though she remembered nothing of our time spent together in Arlathan. When I discovered her in Clan Lavellan I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, tantalizing and dangerous. But I couldn’t resist. Even now, I just wanted to dive right back into the life that would’ve been. That's why I took her memories of our time in her clan. If she stayed with me, we would regret it. But...

My hand landed on her flat stomach and I rubbed it absently. Ellana jerked at the movement.

“Solas?”

 _I can't let you go even if it hurts._ I abandoned the touching and pulled her against my chest. “Stay with me tonight?”

Her eyes widened in surprise and she blushed.

“I don’t mean have sex with me.” I blurted. “I mean just as a companion. I need you here by my side…for tonight.”

She didn’t frown, instead, her smile grew and there was a spark in her eyes. Resting her head against the crook of my shoulder, she pulled herself under the blankets, fully clothed.

“Of course, Solas. Ar lath ma vhenan.”

“Ar lath ma vhenan, Ellana.” I whispered into her hair and knew that we spoke the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to FenxShiral's Project Elvhen, I can give you great translations. Visit their page to learn more about Elvhen language at http://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883/chapters/7825850.
> 
> Elvish Translation:
> 
> Ar mala lasan revas: I now grant freedom
> 
> Ar latha ma vhenan: I love you, my heart.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Fade at Adamant Part One

A vortex swirled around me as I spun toward the craggy bottom of what, at first, appeared to me as the bottom of Adamant’s mountainous fortress. Then an updraft tugged my falling into a float, and I oriented my body to land on my feet, bending at the knees to cushion the blow. Standing, I brushed unseen dust from my leggings and tunic, and that’s when the green light drew my attention skyward.

My jaw fell slack and my eyes began to quiver. Fog and misty wisps tugged at my robe’s sleeves. Dread set in as I looked at a world I knew very well, and yet never wanted to see it again with my physical eyes.

_Oh shit._

_**The Fade…** _

Besides me, the Inquisitor slammed into the ground with a loud grunt, but she got to her feet just as quickly.

“Where are we?” Warden Stroud stood horizontally on the cliff side of a rocky ledge.

On the other side, standing upside down, Hawke stared out at the horizon and sighed. “If this is the afterlife, the Chantry owes me an apology. This looks nothing like the Maker’s bosom.”

I chuckled at the comment, but stared ahead, my eyes connecting with the shattered and sick city of Arlathan. “No, this is the Fade. The Inquisitor opened and rift. We came through…and survived.”

My stomach lurched in protest and I felt the tiny, light hairs along my arms and the back of my neck tingle from the excess of energy permeating the air.

“I never thought I would ever find myself here physically...”

_…Again._

“Look, the Black City, almost close enough to touch.”

**_Arlathan…near the Void itself._ **

“This is incredible.” Ellana said letting go of her breath in a long, drawn out whisper.

I nodded and turned to the assassin I knew as a spirit much like myself. “Cole, how does it feel to be back home?”

The blonde haired man shook visibly and twisted this way and that with wide, quivering eyes. “I-I can’t be here. Not like this, not like me!”

He stumbled, but caught himself before he fell. I approached the young man knowing full well how he felt, and yet I was split into also being so excited to walk on this ground with my own feet.

“It’s all right. We’ll make it right.”

Cole jerked his head toward the Inquisitor and yet looked passed her as if not really seeing anyone else here but himself. “This place is wrong. I made myself forget when I made myself real, but I know it wasn’t like this.”

“It’s not like how I remember the Fade, either.” Hawke growled, his eyes staring toward the swirling, green vortex hovering in the sky. “Perhaps it’s because we’re here physically, instead of just dreaming. The stories say you walked out of the Fade at Haven. Was it like this?”

The air pulled at me slightly as I watched Ellana march past me with concern puckering her brow. “I don’t know. I still can’t remember the last time I did this.”

I bit back a sigh as a whiff of her aroma filtered through my nose, even more powerful inside the deadness of the Fade. Ever since my own nightmare, she frequented my bed, not for sex but for comfort. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that I was growing addicted to her. She was the living embodiment of my dead lover made manifest, and I couldn’t help but imagine that we were getting a second chance to make things right.

_**Perhaps you are. Would it be so bad?** _

_You have a point, Wolf, but this is still not my world._

The Dread Wolf snorted and seemed to retreat into the back of my mind.

“Well, whatever happened at Haven, we can’t assume we’re safe here.” Hawk said, crossing his arms over his chest. “That huge demon was right on the other side of that rift Erimond was using, and there could be others.”

“In our world, the rift the demons came through was nearby. In the main hall. Can we escape the same way?” Warden Stroud asked.

My eyes didn’t leave the elven mage as she searched the sky for any answer to these questions. I exhaled slowly and waited, wanting to thoroughly explore this opportunity but also knowing the dangers being physically in the Fade presented.

“It beats waiting around for demons to find us, right?” Ellana said after a few moments of silence, a small smile tugged up her lips. “There, let’s go.”

All around us, the rocks pierced the sickening sky and murky water fell thick and fetid. Chunks of sewage and unknown debris clung onto my boots and pant legs, cold and slimy. Gravel crunched under my boots and moist air–as humid as a mabari’s breath–snagged the bristles of my wolf’s pelt belted along one shoulder.

“This is fascinating.”

As a Dreamer, I knew what to expect from the Fade, but to actually feel the Fade was an experience I forgot. All the rot and decay reflected a hollow imitation when in comparison to now. Now it was overwhelming. Now it was suffocating. Now it was beautiful.

“It is not the area I would’ve chosen, of course. But to physically walk into the Fade…” I let loose a calming sigh, trying to slow the frantic skipping of my heart.

“Just don’t be distracted by your studies. This is a dangerous place.” Blackwall said, walking up behind me.

I tilted my head at the grizzled Grey Warden. I almost asked how he and the Seeker’s relationship was progressing, almost. As much as I wanted to see the Seeker actually happy, I didn’t exactly want to express that I took an interest in the members of the Inquisition itself. It would make severing contacts much easier when the time came. My eyes fell on Ellana and I felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of parting with her.

“Thank you for the warning.” I answered instead in a snide tone. It was safer to keep my distance.

Ellana caught my eye with her own and she wet her lips, “Solas, you’re the expert on this place. Anything helpful?”

_More than you know, vhenan._

Last time I walked the Fade physically, the entire world was different. Spirits and mortals lived side by side with one another, never fearing the intentions of the other. There was no Veil to separate understanding, and magic was as common as breathing air into your lungs. It was the land of the Elvhen and Arlathan, our greatest city. It was the curious Elvhen that intrigued me out of my corner in the Fade to join them and learn about their existence. It was…

“The Fade is shaped by intent and emotion. Remain focused, and it will lead you where you wish to go.” I answered instead. Even the Inquisitor–for all the love I felt toward her–wasn’t ready to hear a truth that would topple everything she ever learned in her short life. And I refused to destroy the wonder that was Ellana.

“The demon that controls this area is extremely powerful. Some variety of fear, I would guess. I suggest you remain wary of its manipulations and prepare for what is certain to be a fascinating experience.”

 

The deeper we travelled, the heavier the press of spirits clung to my clammy skin. Wherever I looked I saw their lingering eyes, blazing with the raw energy of the Fade, and wondering their next move. My fingers ran down the knot of my staff and I drew my mana to the surface just in case I would need it. Without the buffer of the Fade, magic crashed against me like a man drowning from too much water, and yet was thirsty only moments ago.

Gasping at the delicious electricity, I waved away the Inquisitor’s concerned look. Her very presence was the only thing that made me feel more _alive_ than I did now.

Then we stopped as the Inquisitor directed us toward an elderly human wearing the Chantry robes of the Divine. She too was like me. Assuming a form that was natural and _alive._

"By the Maker! Could that be..." Warden Stroud's eyes widened as he stepped with great trepidation.

"I greet you Warden, and you, Champion." The spirit of the Divine spoke with a smile.

Ellana halted and peered toward the woman. "Divine Justinia. From the little I remember that happened at Haven, I thought you were dead."

Beside her, the Warden sighed. "I fear that the Divine is indeed dead. It is likely what we face is a spirit...or demon."

The Divine inclined her head. "You think my survival impossible, yet here you stand alive in the Fade yourselves. In truth, proving my existence either way would require time we do not have."

Hawke shifted and stared at her. "Surely, you can understand our concerns and explain what you are."

"I am here to help you." The Divine answered instead. "You do not remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Inquisitor."

Ellana looked perturbed and she took a slow breath. "The _real_ Divine would have no way of knowing that I'd been made Inquisitor."

"I know because I have examined memories like yours, stolen by the demon that serves Corypheus." The Divine explained without an ounce of hesitation. It is the Nightmare you forget upon waking. It feeds off your memories of fear and darkness, growing fat upon the terror. The false calling that terrified the Wardens into making such grave mistakes? Its work."

Warden Stroud sneered. "I would gladly avenge the insult this Nightmare dealt my brethren."

"You will have your chance, Brave Warden. This place of Darkness is its lair." The Divine explained.

"Corypheus seems to have a lot of demons at his disposal. How does he command so many?" Ellana asked.

The Divine shook her head, "I know not how he commands his army of demons. His power may come from the Blight itself. But the Nightmare serves willingly, for Corypheus has brought much terror to this world. He was one of the Magisters who unleashed the First Blight on the world, was he not? Every child's cry as the Archdemon circles, every dwarf's whimper in the Deep Roads...the Nightmare has fed well."

"The big demon Erimond was trying to bring through." Ellana concluded.

"Yes." The Divine nodded.

"It's nearby?"

"Yes."

Ellana sucked in a breath. "Well, shit."

"When you entered the Fade at Haven, the demon took a part of you. Before you do anything else, you must recover it. These are your memories, Inquisitor." The Divine waved her hand and spirits appeared before us.

_Well...certainly one way to regain what was lost._

 

When the Inquisitor's memories subsided, we fell forward. Dizziness washed over like a tide pool, but I recovered quickly enough.

"So your mark did not come from Andraste. It came from the orb Corypheus used in his ritual." Warden Stroud accused.

 _No, it came from me!_ But I held my tongue against speaking.

"Corypheus intended to rip open the Veil, use the Anchor to enter the Fade, and throw open the doors of the Black City." The Divine countered. "Not for the Old Gods, but for himself. When you disrupted his plan, the orb bestowed the Anchor on you instead."

"So this was, what, an Accident? A random ricochet in the middle of a fight?"

I hated the waver of pain and sorrow in her voice, staining her words.

"And if it was?" The Divine asked.

"If it was then neither the Maker nor Andraste were in any way involved in this! I'm just..."

"If you believe in the Maker, then you believe he made this world and everything in it, including your accident." The Divine said simply. "And if you do not then nothing has changed. You cannot escape the Lair of the Nightmare until you regain all that it took from you. You have recovered some of yourself but now it knows you are here. You must make haste. I will prepare the way ahead."

Then the Divine was simply gone.

As Ellana turned around, I noticed Stroud looking at a angry Hawke. "Something troubles you, Hawke?"

"Those were Grey Wardens holding the Divine in that vision." Hawke said in a bitter tone. "Their actions led to her death."

Warden Stroud sighed. "I assume he had taken their minds, as you have seen him do before. Come, we can argue after we escape this dark place."

Hawke straightened and growled. "Oh, I intend to."

I seethed at the thought. Like Andruil did many times when she hunted in the Void, these mortals wilfully drank of the Blight hoping to master the enemy in order to defeat them. Didn’t anyone understand that their madness was unnatural?

“Do you think that was truly the Divine?” Blackwall asked after Ellana regained the first portion of her stolen nightmares.

**_Those were Grey Wardens holding down the Divine…so much for those mortals existing for the good of Thedas._ ** __

__

__

_I know_ , I growled at the Wolf, crossing my arms over my chest. I ran my fingers through the wolf pelt trying to calm my nerves. I glared at the two Wardens in our group and wanted nothing more than to tear both their throats out. _If only they would understand what they were re-enacting, before they ended up traveling down the same destructive path as did I._

“We have survived in the Fade physically. Perhaps she did as well.” I said to Blackwall, still doing my best to lose my anger by focusing on the experience ahead. “Or, if it is a spirit that identifies so strongly with Justinia that it believes it is her, how can we say it is not? Whatever she is, she seems to want to help us.”

_You know…_

__

__

_But they do not need to._

“And the Nightmare? From what she said, I don’t look forward to meeting it.” Blackwall glared at me and I felt his unease as palpable as the ground I stood on.

“It’s nothing like me.” Cole cut in with a quavering voice, “I make people forget to help them. It eats their fears.” The young man fidgeted and wrung his hands, not quite meeting any of our gazes. “I don’t know if I can do that, but I don’t. I don’t want to. That’s not me.”

Hearing him, my heart ached to soothe his pain and doubt. Many of the Inquisition’s followers mistrusted the assassin, some were outright hostile, in his presence. I knew that he hated for the Inquisitor to start believing that Cole posed such a threat as the Nightmare. I knew better; Ellana was not the type of person to reject the young man based on the actions of another creature, especially a demon. I placed my hand on the young man’s shoulder, drawing his attention to me. I kept my mask sincere and my eyes compassionate in the wake of his fear.

“Peace, Cole. None of us mistake you for the Nightmare.” I said, pressing healing magic to ease his mind. “It is a fear demon, as I suspected, likely drawing on the terrors related to the Blight.”

_Seeing as how we are smothered in the shit._

“Fear is a very old, very strong feeling. It predates love, pride, compassion…every emotion save perhaps desire.”

**_Desire is what drove you to take Elvhen form…_ ** __

__

__

_I know._

The Dread Wolf was louder in the Fade though, I supposed, I should’ve stopped giving _myself_ another entity as if I was possessed. It was just easier than to admit the things I inflicted on the elven people to save them. In the Fade, however, I was reminded everywhere I turned, of the monster I truly was.

Letting out a sigh I didn’t know I held in, I turned to address the Inquisitor. “Be wary. The Nightmare will do anything in its power to weaken our resolve. But after what it did to the Wardens, it’s going to learn to fear for itself.”

It didn’t take long before the Nightmare was aware of our presence, just as the spirit of the Divine warned. And as all demons before it, the creature decided to toy with us, hoping to break our determination.

“Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din.” The Nightmare’s voice echoed and shook the rocks of the Fade.

I bit back a bitter laugh. The creature truly had no idea. “Banal nadas.”

“Perhaps I should be afraid, the most powerful members of the Inquisition.” The Nightmare laughed, choosing its next target. “Like Blackwall. Ah, there’s nothing like a Grey Warden. And you are nothing like a Grey Warden.”

I felt a sting of shame and anger from the Grey Warden that was matched with his retort, “I’ll show you a Warden’s strength, beast.”

My eyes widened as I took in Blackwall for the first time with new eyes. And then I understood what the Nightmare meant. There was no Blight in the man’s blood. He stood clean, valiant and very much free of the taint. Narrowing my eyes, I glanced at Ellana knowing that she remained oblivious to the man’s deception. Yet, I resolved myself not to be the one to voice my discovery. Blackwall needed to claim the truth for himself…eventually.

“Are you afraid, Cole? I can help you forget. Like you help other people. We’re so very much alike, you and I.” The Nightmare taunted.

I clenched my fists as the young man’s desperation and discuss nearly blinded my clear thinking. Cole was very much like the friend I lost, and I would take this creature to the deepest areas of the Void if it dared destroy Cole.

“No.” Cole said, the tone of his voice was firm and a wave of determination rushed in to renew his spirit.

“Warden Stroud. How it must feel to devote your whole life to the Wardens, only to watch them fall? Or worse, to know that you were responsible for their destruction? When the next Blight comes, will they curse your name?”

 _Another victim and another insight into one too many individualities._ My stomach flipped and I bashed my stave into a fearling, ripping its head asunder from its body. When in a body, the voices could be quelled as could the raw feelings, but in the Fade, I felt like an imposter, delving into the very souls of my companions.

“With the Maker’s blessing, we will end this wretched beast.” Warden Stroud whispered and his devotion cut through my body like hot, white fire. Finding himself weary and trapped inside the darkness only made the man a brighter beacon.

But the creature was already laughing and moving onto another target. “Did you think you mattered, Hawke? Did you think anything you ever did mattered? You couldn’t even save your city. How could you expect to strike down a god? Fenris is going to die, just like your family, and everyone you ever cared about.”

“Of course a fear demon would know where to hurt us most. We must ignore it.” Hawke grumbled, casting electricity down to fry another fearling.

“Ah, Inquisitor Lavellan, what you hold onto, and call vhenan, is the creature you dread most. Why do you think he will actually remain at your side for eternity? He’s just biding his time to strike down all you care about, and sneer as your world burns in his flames.”

Ellana glanced at me for a moment as if she might catch on to what the Nightmare said, possibly even figured out its riddle. I cursed the beast for trying to hurt her. The Inquisitor’s hand twitched along the leather bindings of her staff before she shot a bolt of lightning down at an attacking spirit.

“Nuva fen’harel pala masa sule’din.” She spat out into the darkness.

I choked, the blood leaving my face and I stared at her, not realizing that my jaw dropped at first.

The Nightmare laughed long and hard. “No, my dear, I believe he’ll do that do you.”

“Just ignore it, Ellana.” I said, picking a path down the steep hill toward where I saw the Divine standing and waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Project Elvhen by FenxShiral we now know what Solas and the Nightmare spoke of: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883/chapters/7826219
> 
> Nightmare: Speak rebel! You care for nothing but victory. Your pride will be your death.
> 
> Solas: Nothing is inevitable.
> 
> Ellana says: Nuva fen’harel pala masa sule’din 
> 
> Translated: May the Dread Wolf fuck your ass until you die!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the Fade at Adamant. I would apologize before hand but I do so love the tension I draw out.

The last of the memories washed over us all, stripping all the lie bare. Just as I knew the truth, so did everyone in the Fade with the Inquisitor. Her mark was _not_ from Andraste. I caught myself almost reaching out to soothe the elven mage, and mouth opened to tell her that the Anchor was bestowed by me, but I caught myself and still all the muscles to watch. A look of sorrow passed over Ellana’s features as she got a good look at the spirit who called herself Divine.

“It was you.” The elven mage pushed forward from the rest of the group and spoke with a soft voice. “They thought it was Andraste sending me from the Fade, but it was the Divine behind me. And then you…she died.”

The spirit’s sorrow wrapped around me, like a vice against my heart. “Yes.”

“So this creature is simply a spirit.” Warden Stroud replied with a shake of his head.

“You don’t say.” Hawke hissed.

“I’m sorry if I disappoint you.” The spirit of the Divine whispered, and shed her form of the Divine to take up her true form; one of love and light in a bright sprite of a creature.

“Are you here? Did you linger here to help me instead of passing on?” Ellana said, focusing on the golden being before us.

“If that is the story you wish to tell, it is not a bad one.” The spirit spoke still in the Divine’s voice and just as gentle. I felt the tension shift and melt away for a fleeting moment.

Replaced by growing hostility.

“What we do know is that the mortal Divine perished at the Temple. Thanks to the Grey Wardens.” Hawke spat, glaring at Stroud as if the man twisted the dagger into the woman’s heart himself.

Strains of a migraine pulled and pushed at my head. Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose wishing that–like when I came here as a dreamer–the pain would ebb and disappear entirely.

“As I said, the Grey Wardens responsible for that crime were under the control of Corypheus. We can discuss this further once we return to Adamant.” Warden Stroud said with great offense marking the tone in his voice.

Hawke wouldn’t back down and crossed his arms over his chest. “Assuming the Wardens and their demon army didn’t destroy the Inquisition while we were gone.”

Rage hardened the features of the older man and fire blazed across the Fade. “How dare you judge us! You tore Krikwall apart and started the Mage Rebellion.”

Closing the gap with one, steeled stride, Hawke got in the Warden’s face like a snarling, foaming beast. “To protect innocent mages! Not madmen drunk on blood magic but you’d ignore that, because you can’t imagine a world without the Wardens. Even if that’s what we need.”

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. My gaze lingered on both Blackwall and Warden Stroud. Even if I now knew the truth about Blackwall, he chose to throw his lot in with the madmen.

“Agreed.” My eyes narrowed. “The Wardens may once have served a greater good, but they are far too dangerous now.”

_**Just like Andruil.** The Dread Wolf chuckled somewhere deep inside me._

_Just like me…_ I countered.

“The blood sings softly. It never stops, and then it’s all they hear. We can’t let them hurt more people.” Cole said in a quiet but firm voice.

Blackwall took a step back, his face wide with shock. “What are you saying? You want to get rid of the Wardens? Everyone makes mistakes. They would’ve died to save us.”

Despite my anger, I felt a twinge of guilt at how quickly I dismissed the demons in mortal skin. What if it was me that my companions argued over? What if it was _my_ fate? Then again, that day would one day still come, and I was too old to be moved from my path now. I would welcome their attempt to stop me.

Ellana stalked up to the two arguing men, her fists clenched at her side. Her shoulders sagged at an invisible weight that I felt press harder still. “Sweet Marker, could both of you please shut up? We can argue once we’ve escaped the giant fear demon.”

The tension eased into surprise and I felt my lungs expand as I could breathe again. The longer in the Fade I stayed, the more I succumbed to my darker nature. Dreams and nightmares of the past threatened to plague me, and I sorely wanted to be far away.

There was a screech as more fearlings dropped from their nesting places.

“Inquisitor.” Warden Stroud shouted.

“The Nightmare has found us.” The spirit of the Divine announced before disappearing in a blink of light.

Both Warden Stroud and Hawk stood behind the Inquisitor, brandishing weapons and the creatures surrounding us.

“Form up!” Warden Stroud commanded.

“I’m with you.” Hawke replied.

 

Passing back through the rift felt like a shock of ice water down my back, but I was very glad to be rid of that Nightmare. No creature should grow fat off of leeching from innocent people. Both armies of the Inquisition and Grey Wardens who fought at the demons, jerked toward where the rift now snapped closed with a clutch from the Inquisitor’s mark.

Fury. Pain. Sorrow.

A score of emotions painted along Ellana’s face as she straightened to stare at the growing crowd. Cheers erupted from those who survived, and Hawke stumbled toward the elven mage.

“She was right.” Hawk said keeping valor in his tone, and I was relieved to only be feeling the emotions he showed on the surface now. “Without the Nightmare to control them, the mages are free. And Corypheus loses his demon army. Though as far as they’re all concerned, the Inquisitor broke the spell with the blessing of the Maker.”

Ellana stared at Hawke thoughtfully as she considered his words. Then she gestured toward the two armies, “They need something to believe in.”

Hawke chuckled. “I suppose escaping by the skin of your teeth isn’t as good for morale.”

“Inquisitor!” A scout called out stopping from his deadbolt. “The Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared. The Venatori Magister is unconscious but alive. Cullen thought you might wish to deal with him yourself. As for the Wardens, those who weren’t corrupted helped us fight the demons.”

A Grey Warden soldier clad head to toe in the signature platemail of the Wardens, came up to stand beside the scout and pressed a fist over his breastplate. “We stand ready to make up for Clarel’s tragic mistake. Where is Stroud?”

Ellana took a deep breath and I saw her features flinch before she squared her shoulders. “Warden Stroud died striking a blow against a servant of the Blight. We will honour his sacrifice and remember how he exemplified the ideals of the Grey Wardens. Even as Corypheus and his servants tried to destroy you all from within.”

The Grey Warden sighed and stared at his feet before speaking, “Inquisitor, we have no one left of significant rank. What do we do now?”

“You stay and do whatever you can to help. Stroud died for the ideals of the Wardens. In war, victory, and we are still at war. Do you believe the Wardens can still help?” Ellana announced, looking almost expectantly down at the Grey Warden she addressed.

“I do, Your Worship.” He said with conviction.

“You’re still vulnerable to Corypheus, and possibly his Venatori, but there are plenty of demons that need killing.”

I let out a huge sigh and hung my head. _Just like Andruil, the monsters get another chance…_ But as much as I wanted to shake such nonsensical ideas from the Inquisitor, I couldn’t find myself hating her for making the difficult decision. She was right, we were still at war. But she would be hearing my firm opinion about this when we returned to Skyhold.

“But they hurt people.” Cole protested, standing next to me.

I placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“While they do that, I’ll inform the Wardens at Weisshaupt what happened. Best they not get caught off guard.” Hawke announced with a nod.

“Thank you, Your Worship. We will no fail you.” The Grey Warden bowed his head before returning back to his fellow Wardens.

“Good luck with your Inquisition. Try not to start an Exalted March on anything and take care of Varric for me.” Hawke then nodded and left.

_Thank the Creators it is over…_

_**…And you are still intact.** _

 

“I cannot believe the Grey Wardens could even conceive of such a plan” I growled at Ellana when she met me in the tent I erected. It would take a few weeks for us to arrive back at Skyhold. For now I felt alone with my growing thoughts. “To seek out these Old Gods _deliberately_ in some bizarre attempt to preempt the Blight…”

Ellana sighed and pushed me up against the main wooden post at the center of my tent, her hand pressed against my chest. “I know. I’m glad we could end this madness before it started.”

I sighed into the gentleness in her tone and the fires soaking into my flesh from her palm just over my heart. By all rights, I could’ve ripped into her with all the rage I possessed, but at that moment, I just…

“Thank you. I’ve been on my own for so long. It’s difficult to get used to having the support of others.” I whispered, clasping her hand in mine. “Those fools and duty. Responsibility is not expertise. Action is not inherently superior to inaction. Forgive me, the entire idea is…unnerving.”

Stepping on her tip-toes to reach me, Ellana’s lips claimed mine in a fierce, almost possessive kiss. Dropping her hand, I let my own fall to circle fingers just above her hipbones and parted my clenched jaw to invite her in. She wasted no time, her tongue lashing to brand its trail along my own.

Flames soaked me up as all the dread and fear of losing her again pulled to the surface. My hands danced along her skin just to reassure myself that she was real, alive and whole. Her hands grabbed at me, feeling every muscle as it bunched and coiled, built and released. I could feel my body harden against her, and she fit her hip between my legs and thrust against my now stiff cock.

I choked back a moan and fisted my hands in her hair, pulling it free from the cord that held it.

Then she pulled away and I stared down at her dazed and blissful, the ordeal in the Fade half forgotten. Her eyes narrowed as she searched inside mine for answers to questions yet given light, until she found her voice.

“Solas, what the Nightmare said in the Fade…about you, us…it suggested that you were here just to betray the Inquisition.”

My face softened, cracks growing bigger in the mask and I ran a palm along her cheek. “I could _never_ betray you. I love you, Ellana.”

Her gaze dropped and she took a step back, pulling my hand to follow her. For a moment, she said nothing, but eyed the meager belongings I brought with me. Her eyes settled on my bedroll and the plush wolf fur that I slept on before she turned to look up at me.

“Then lay with me, Solas. I want to _feel_ your love.”

My heart stopped. For a long moment, I was between dreaming and awake, living and dead. What she asked of me wasn’t what we were growing used to doing these past nights; lying in each other’s company. She wanted to…could I say…

“Solas–”

I pressed two fingers to her lips and shook my head. The words were difficult to force through my throat but I knew I wanted this too.

“Ma nuvenin.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!
> 
> I don't think I wrote this scene well enough but I'm pressed on a deadline and definitely wanted to bring this chapter to life. I never realized how hard it is to write a sex scene in first person so I feel like I was a bit shallow on Ellana's feelings. I might end up editing the chapter some, but I'm not sure.

It began with a molten stare across the Dalish camp and a tender brush against her hand when we reached for the skinned rabbit. But I refused to lay with Ellana after giving her a false name so long ago. That black hair, shiny and tight in its braid, those moon-piercing eyes full of determination to prove her worth to a clan who placed so much faith in her leadership; all of her being reminded me of my lost love.

And here, in my tent, I couldn’t deny the similarities or the want that built up since I touched her unconscious form back at Haven in my mad rush to save her. It was as if the Creators were giving me a second chance to relive a time I tried desperately to forget, and couldn’t overlook now with her hands mapping out my body this night.

Surviving the Fade reminded me of how close I came to losing Ellana again, and I couldn’t...

“Solas?” Ellana gazed up at me through long, dark eyelashes.

There was a dangerous question in the way she spoke my name, and an answer I longed to provide. Gently, I chucked her chin upward and pressed my lips against hers in a kiss meant to claim every part of her. She gasped and her body softened into my embrace. Pushing the small of her back, I melded her form to my own and brushed my tongue against her teeth. With a sigh, her lips parted to allow my invasion and my tongue met hers.

Our tongues sucked and danced together without words, only need. Her hands pressed against my back, travelled up my spine to explore every plain of my body and, in its wake, left burning wounds that spiked my pulse considerably. My breath hitched and I moaned, tangling my hands back into the flowing tresses of her silk, black hair, freed from the cord that bound them. Curling the strands through my fingers, I pulled her head back to break our kiss and bare her neck.

There were no words because no language invented to accurately express the need and want traveling through me, and I knew she saw it in my eyes because her own widened in fear and awe. A feral growl rumbled through my chest as I lunged to bite down hard on the junction of her throat. Ellana cried out, her nails digging crescent cut in my skin and then she sighed in a relief I knew so very well. Fitting a thigh between my legs, she bucked into me and I staggered before I could adjust.

In one sweep, I caught her legs and curled her entire body against my chest. Then my knees buckled as I softly splayed her out on my wolf pelt. Ellana moaned, burying herself into the plush fur and stared up at me with eyes blown wide from lust. Electricity crackled throughout the tent pulling up the tiny hairs along my body and I felt the lacings of my breeches bite painfully into the tip of my cock. I hissed and covered her body with mine, desperate to feel the delicious friction she brought.

I rolled my tongue over the bruised skin at her throat and placed soft kisses around the mark I made, and there would be a mark for a few days. I felt certain about that. My hands palmed her breasts as I captured her lips once more. This would not be just sex, because just sex didn’t feel so satisfying even before penetration.

Ellana reacted, her clever fingers sliding between their clothed bodies with clear intent. Instinct shifted my hips allowing her to grip my swollen shaft aching inside the fabric, now stiff and uncomfortable feeling. She rubbed along my length and shape, causing it to swell from her ministrations.

I bit back a cry, but bucked into her palm.

“Solas…” Her voice was more a whimpered plea than actual words. “You feel bigger than…”

Ellana didn’t finished her sentence but I knew where it was going. Perhaps she was afraid of ruining the mood, comparing me to past lovers, but it wasn’t hard to see. I was Elvhen, not Dalish. Our eyes met and I saw the traces of hesitation. She was afraid that I would decide I didn’t want this.

 _I_ want _this!  
I_ need _you!_

Running my palm gently along her cheek, I cupped her chin and breathed in her scent now mixed with arousal and lust. The air was heavy with the beginnings of our fantasies.  
“Ellana, nuvenan rosa’da’din in ma sule enan’ma.” I whispered, feeling the gruff tone in my voice.

A soft huff of laughter and relief escaped her throat and she wrapped her legs about my waist, bringing my hips crashing down onto her hand. My breathed hitched and I thrust my clothed erection against her palm and thighs. Flames rushed to burn up all sane thoughts from me making me drunk on the lust brought on by seemingly chaste body movements. Pain and need strained my fragmented control, and I began to work loose the buttons of her jacket.

Molten need drove my fingers, and pushed away the calm, collected Solas I crafted millennia to become. The Dread Wolf regained dominance, smelling his mate next to him, begging to be filled to overflowing. A strangled growl pushed through my throat and I pressed my lips to her jugular to feel the beat of her pulse. Ellana didn’t see the danger nor would she heed it if I told her. The very nature of Inquisitor and advisor swayed in favour of lovers.

Pushing her head back into the fur of my bedroll, Ellana bowed her body forward into mine giving me full reign of tugging her clothing off. The heat stifled me and it became difficult to breathe, but I managed to open up her jacket and pull free her breastband. Full globes spilled from their containment and I gasped, reaching to draw my nails across a taut, dark nipple.

Ellana gave an approving groan, arching up to push her breast into my palm. I cradled the soft flesh for a moment longer before dipping my head to the valley between them and trailed kisses toward her belly. I was reward with a hush gasp and the prickling of her nails into the scalp of my head. A dizzying wave of sensation started from behind my eyes and flushed across my body in blazing heat. I panted as I continued a fiery trail of nipping and kissing down to her waistband. When I reached the fabric, I tugged on the laces with my teeth.

Her hands skimmed down my back until they connected with my waist band and Ellana pulled my tunic up so she could slide her hand against my heated skin. Abandoning the half loosened laces, I rocked onto my knees and wrenched my tunic free, throwing it off into the darkness of the tent. Then I turned my attention to her jacket, sending it in the same general direction. My control was gone, I couldn’t stand the wait any longer.

Ellana responded with a greedy lunge for the lacings of my own breeches. Before I could even rip the fabric down, she jerked her wrapped legs to the side, unbalancing me. I fell on my side with an unexpected grunt of surprise, and she straddled me without hesitation. Unclasping the heavy metal buckle, she slung it overhead to Creator’s knows where and dug into the rest of my clothing until I lay naked below her as a staged offering. Her eyes–heavy lidded and dark from pleasure–roved along the contours of my body.

I heard her purr and I blushed. There were no coherent words to speak. My sanity was now mere strands of what it once was and, despite the vulnerability I knew was there, I no longer cared. Nothing existed outside this of her and myself; Ellana and Solas. My muscles quivered and tensed in anticipation when she pressed flat palms down my taut stomach. I groaned loud and long.

Then she _rocked_!

And it was _incredible_!

Grabbing both hands, Ellana yanked my arms above my head, and I let her. She held me at the wrists and bent forward, rolling trails of unquenchable flames along my skin from her tongue. Her hips ground into my erection and I hissed from elation and friction. Exquisite! Heady and drunk, I bucked up into her, sending my cock into the junction between her thighs, but she clamped her hips hard against mine and pushed me down, stilling my movement.

A whine escaped my throat and I stared up at her with want. I was clay in her hands, and she was molding me into a form that suited her fully. Pressure built up, blinding white behind my eyes and I panted and writhed under her, but she refused to let up. The coarse fabric of her breeches rubbed against my slick, pulsating flesh, creating tingling bolts of lightning on the surface of my cock.

“Ellana… _Ah_!” My voice came out dry and crackled. My eyes rolled up into the back of my head as I clamped down on my tongue, trying desperately to keep from coming. _Not yet!_

I was unravelling by her hand. Any sounds that came out of me were only whimpers and begging for her to sate the desire she was cultivating inside me.

Then she loosened her grip of my wrists and I watched as she tugged the lacings of her breeches to push them down over her hips. My hands found her hips on their own volition and I flipped Ellana underneath me, mounting her before I knew we switched places. She gasped as her head landed on the pillow and her nails cut into my arms. Our breaths puffed out as shallow and needy. Beneath me, I felt Ellana kick the remainder of her breeches off, and she wrapped her legs about my waist again.

My cock twitched at the curls of teasing heat and slick folds kissed the tip. I rolled my head back in a loud groan. We were here, in my tent, about to consummate a year’s worth of teasing and agony. Every part of my mind screamed and the hesitation during my courtship fled into the far caverns of my brain. She was _everything_ I realized I needed. Past. Present. Future. I _knew_ I belonged only to Ellana.

The lustful glaze in her eyes cleared, replaced by the beginnings of worry. She opened her mouth but I claimed her lips with a deep, reassuring kiss that jolted pleasure throughout. Sighing, my hand found hers and I grabbed her wrist, dragging it to the base of my cock. Curious fingers trailed along its length, causing my eyes to bulge and I almost bucked into her core without warning. Steeling my hips, I urged her hand back to the base then let go and fisted the fur on either side of her body.

“I want you to feel us _connect_.” My voice was breathy and I barely balanced on the ledge of control. She would reach up and toss me off, and I relished the feeling it would bring.

Unable to speak, Ellana nodded and ran her tongue over her bottom lip, swollen from our passionate kissing.

I whispered a spell under my breath and seeped mana into her through my thighs. I wanted _both_ of us to feel the first penetration and ride through until the last. _It’s been so long. Too long._

With a shaky breath, I sank into her slick core, inch by glorious inch until I buried myself to my hilt. Ellana gasped, her eyes widening as I knew she felt both the stretching from my cock and the subtle flutter of her hot walls against my hardened flesh. The nails of her free hand gripped my hip, branding the flesh with crescent shape wounds. I _groaned_ , deep and long, full of tension and relief. Though I clenched my jaw, I tried and failed to keep the volume of my need quiet. There was no doubt those in the camp would have front row seats to our tryst, and it would set tongues wagging come morning.

But right now _she_ only mattered.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for a moment, trying to catch my breath and feel how our bodies fit together.

Tight. Warm. Wet. Weeping.

She was everything and so much more.

Even without further movement, I could feel myself come undone, and I wasn’t sure how I wasn’t burning up into ashes right then.

A small hand pressed at the dip in my back just above my rear, drawing my attention back down to the woman who tore my world asunder. A shy smile curled along her lips and she pressed another touch of encouragement to continue. I released a soft sigh and began to rock.

Slow. Tentative at first. Trying to adjust to feeling my invasion into her and the sensation of being invaded. She tilted her hips to give a wider berth so my thrusts would deepen and fill her completely. Grasping my shoulders, Ellana ground against me with thrusts of her own. I gasped in short, staccato breaths and groaned when she pressed fleeting kisses along my neck. She nipped at my chin and I jumped, touching my tip against the wall of her womb.

“Solas…Ah… _Pala em elvar’el_!” Ellana choke and dug her hands into my sides.

I shuddered, a quake that traveled from my hips into my tensed belly as I worked desperately to keep my peak at bay. All at once I felt the friction of being cleaved in twain, the slick of her soaking my hard length, the pounding of our hearts in synchronized rhythm and the tingling of a mind coiled too tight. White pleasure escalated to agony as the sensations overloaded me, too much and yet not enough.

Rocking onto my knees, I pressed my hands in a bruising grasp on either side of her hips, just above her hipbones, and slammed into her. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the intoxicating smell of copper, paint, lavender and musky sex filled the room, sending me into a blazing frenzy of emotions and ecstasy. We moved as one, heady and enmeshed with hands grabbing greedily to sate a thirst that teased relentlessly.

Ribbons of magic swirled in the air and I drew in a lungful of the Veil, feeling it curl deep into my body. It plucked at my skin like a harp, bringing every touch raw and I thrust my head backwards to release a long howl. To my surprise, Ellana joined my voice with a howl of her own.

_Sweet Creators!_

I almost climaxed right then, but managed to stave it off for a few moments more. I wasn’t done, hadn’t drunk my fill of this beautiful woman beneath me yet.

It wasn’t long before we were both panting and creating a symphony of needy whines and hitched whimpers. The world fell away as we became enraptured with each rutting thrust. Nothing existed outside our mating dance of pleasure save for a cacophony of shared sensations and the rhythm created from our bodies.

I felt the explosion as a wave crashing over me as Ellana’s moan burst from deep inside her, escalating into a cry of my name as she crested. Warmth flooded over me, sinking into the skin of my cock and I groaned louder and longer than I had before. My hips jerked and the thrusts became erratic, faster and deeper. I slammed her trembling body into the depth of my furs in wild abandon.

“Ellana!” I called out as I felt myself unravel into a series of animalistic grunts and rutting. My body seized and I felt the clench. “ _Fenedhis…Ell-AH_!”

The head of my cock broadened as my release shot stream after stream of seed inside her womb. All at once I felt her tight walls jump and her body twist and I _felt_ the pleasure and eroticism of her climax as it brought her higher and higher toward the Creators. It was overwhelming and I wanted more.

Ellana clenched onto me, and her core hips jerked as she sucked greedily onto my cum, seeking to milk me dry. Whispered words divulged into keening cries and we clutched onto one another, riding through wave after wave of intoxication until I emptied everything inside her.

Then, like a receding tide, the storm ended leaving us both sated and fulfilled. My head buzzed with both exhaustion and relief. Unable to keep up the casting of mana and even my own body, I collapsed down onto Ellana sated and content. Spent and softening, my cock slipped out of her and I rolled over to rest beside her.

For a while, we said nothing, content to just listen to our shallow breaths and pulsating heart beats. Smalls tremors skipped over my body like tiny arcs of lightning, racing down to curl my toes. I reveled in the feeling of weakness and true _satisfaction_. It had been too long since I allowed someone to _see_ my vulnerability.

“Solas…” Ellana managed with a gulp of air. “You…me…we… _Creators_!”

“I know.” I agreed and pulled her into my chest. Burying my face into her hair, I took a long breath, drinking in our combined aroma. “ _I know…_ ”

It was all I could say as I slipped into a deep, safe sleep. One I hadn’t experienced since the night before I _lost_ Ellana for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more Elvish translations thanks to "Project Elvhen" by FenxShiral. You can find her stuff at http://archiveofourown.org/works/3553883/chapters/7826624. 
> 
> Nuvenan rosa’da’din in ma sule enan’ = I want to cum inside of you until I spill out of you.
> 
> Pala em elvar’el! = Fuck me harder!
> 
> Sex magic comes from the codex in the Emerald Graves, plus, mages are awesome with what they can do.


	19. Updates.

I want to apologize to my readers about the update that did not happen last night. I received news that my mother has been hospitalised due to a stroke. I will do my best to get around to updating Lathbora. I have not forgotten about all of you and I am honoured that you enjoy Solas and his point of view.

I will also be changing my updating schedule to weekends since it'll be easier for me and the fiction that needs to get back to the Editor's desk.

Ma serannas for your patience.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another nightmare, another piece of the puzzle that is Solas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for understanding the hard time I'm going through. I will be moving my updates to the weekends to try to give more time to bring quality updates.
> 
> This is a short chapter but it is no less profound in the depth of explanation of Solas' character. Enjoy!

_Panic…running…_

_Running?_

The darkness surrounding me burst into light and golden capped, white spires that slashed claws through the bluest skies. A slight breeze swayed the leafy, green tops of towering trees, and in the distance I caught the sharp pitch of sweet bird song. Everything around suggested peace and tranquility, yet my heart thrummed with pain and fear. 

Below me, my legs cut through the fronds and reedy grass, and I sucked in another breath of agony. All the while my brain screamed that something was very wrong.

An impressive tower came into view, growing taller and wider as I approached. It appeared unblemished and white, scrubbed hours clean by the blood and sweat of slave hands. Many day throughout the calendar year I remembered walking the grounds of that tower, speaking to the owner… _Mythal!_

_Please no!_

_**You’re too late…** _

I closed off the Dread Wolf’s voice, hoping the beast lied though I knew the truth.

Elvhen jumped out of my direct path, wide-eyed and cringing. None wanted to face the wrath of an enraged Evanuris, and I felt past the state of enraged.

Two Elvhen guards dressed in platemail that resembled wide palm fronds stood sentinel at the golden gate in front of the crystal tower. Upon seeing me, they shifted directly into my path with their intricate, Silverite tipped spears at the ready to stop me. A growled escaped my lips and I increased my speed. Any amount of slowing would cost me and possibly .

**_She’s already gone!_ ** __

_I refuse to believe your words!_

“Out of my way!” I said in a low bark as I leapt over the tall gait with only a small spring from my heels.

Behind me I heard the guards shout to one another but I didn’t pause to find out why or apologize. They didn’t matter to me.

A split of metal and stone shattered the peaceful silence, causing the earth to fissure and quake. I cried out, coming to a halt as the towering structure fraction in twain, and the gold domed roof began its descent to the ground. Realizing the danger for the first time, the Elvhen people scrambled in all directions. Many stood paralyzed, their eyes widened with grief and fear as they watched their mighty temple crumble at its foundation.

Another burst of energy sprang from the deep wells of magic in my body and I made haste toward the heart of the temple. My Elvhen form dissolved, replaced by a massive black-furred wolf with six blazing eyes the colour of blood.

Dodging debris and chucks of stone, I raced up the stairs feeling the trembling of the massive strength beneath my paws.

 ** _“Mythal!”_** The Dread Wolf, my voice, bounced off the circular walls. **_“Mythal!”_**

**_Turn back you fool!_ ** __

_No! I cannot leave her!_

_**You’ll die!** _

_Then I die!_

He couldn’t stop me, no one could but the Creators and they hadn’t shown their face in millennia. Six eyes stared off in every direction, painting a scene of chaos. The Fade tore at me as spirits fled in terror and energy crackled from the fresh breaks where magic once held every structure intact.

The dead and dying lay in broken heaps. Those who still lived tried to claw free of the debris before the next wave finished off what the first did not. They called out to me as I sped past, begging for a kindness I ignored. Only she mattered.

Halfway up the crumbling tower, I noticed the lithe body of an Elvhen woman I knew well by the black silk of her hair. She fell and even as she drew near, I saw how limp and bedraggled she appeared. My heart stopped in that second and my jaws clamped down to catch her, but not hard enough to cause her more pain.

Mythal barely managed a whimper but it was sound enough to cause my heart to take up its frantic pace once more.

 _She’s alive._ I simply addressed as I rode the large stones back down to the ground below.

**_You know as well as I that it won’t last long…_ ** __

_Fenedhis! I’ll hear none of this!_

Hitting the ground with barely a bounce, I disappeared into the thick of the forest. When the damned traitors came to look for Mythal’s body they would only find ash and stone.

My sharp claws clicked against dead twigs and kicked up the dry earth in a cloud as I bounded toward the Temple of Mythal; her last sanctuary. Driving my body through three days and two nights without sleep, I carried the frail Evanuris, now slung over my back, and prayed to the Creators that she would live. On the dawn of the third day, the Temple of Mythal came into view shining as a beacon in the bruised sky, and a shard of hope lightened my steps.

Elvhen priests and guards shouted from the parapets and battlements, many rushing to greet us. When they beheld their goddess, the priests cleared a path and led me toward the heart of the temple.

Early morning pink and yellow shafts of sunlight touched upon the soft dirt field surrounding by neatly pruned trees. At its center, I laid Mythal upon the marble carved altar before reclaiming my Elvhen shape. A warm breeze tangled its fingers in my brown braids, whipping the strands into my face as I watched my black-haired beauty labour to take a single breath.

“Mythal…” My voice came out barely a whisper but enough to bring her to open those clear blue eyes.

My heart skipped at the unspeakable agony reflecting from eyes that normally viewed the world as a mother would her child. I knelt beside Mythal and took her hand in mine.

“Fen’Harel…” Mythal said, her word started a coughing fit in her lungs and I pressed my forehead on the top of her clasped hand.

“Rest, Vhenan.” The words shook as they robbed me of my remaining strength. I began to sob.

“He knows…” Mythal choked, but continued as if what she had to say would shape the world around her words. “Elgar’nan knows that…you…sired Falon’Din.”

My eyes shot up to meet her pain ridden ones and I felt my breath hitch. I swallowed hard, twice, before trying to speak around the lump in my throat. “Is that…Creators…that can’t be why…”

Mythal placed her palm against my cheek. “Hush now…Fen’Harel…nothing can…undo…what has…”

When her voice quieted, I took to my feet and clutched her hand to my chest. “You will live! I cannot lose you…not now…not ever.”

She smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. “It…is too…late…Vhenan…”

Then the light left her eyes.

**. . .**

“Solas?”

I bolted up covered in a cold sweat and every part of me shivering. A frail hand trembled on my chest and I snatched it up, pulling its owner into my lap and a tight embrace. I buried my nose into her raven coloured hair and breathed deeply of her special aroma. Then I recognized the voice. Not Mythal’s but…

“I’m alright, Ellana.” I said, my voice muffled in the Inquisitor’s hair.

Her hand soothed along my back, smoothing across the taut muscles that bunched and coiled still from the remnants of the nightmare.

“Bad dream?” Her silky voice calmed me and grounded me back in the here and now.

I nodded, nipping at her salty skin. We were still in my tent and surrounded by the musk of our love making. It made me relax and lay back into the wolf fur, bringing her naked body atop my own. I ran knuckles down her spine and sighed when she jumped and moaned at the delicate touch.

“I am better now that you are here.” It wasn’t a lie. No matter who she was–in whichever part of my life she came into–whenever I was near her, the world was better.


	21. Second Emergency

I'm working on the next chapter which will be part one of the Winter Palace, but I was admitted into the ER this morning for almost dying.

Ma serannas for sticking with me through this and I'll update this week.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts; Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ma serannas to those who have waited patiently while I have recovered from the event that almost took my life and my mother's decreasing-increasing-decreasing health. While I might not be fully recovered, I am well on my way.
> 
> The next couple of chapters will focus on the Winter Palace as Solas plays a theoretical deadly game with Ambassador Briala while not tipping his hand to the Inquisitor.
> 
> Also, I included ALL the companions' introductions for all the possibilities they bring as well as keeping it with the decision of the Inquisitor. Though it cannot be done in game, I like to think Ellana would take all her key members. (Cole is probably there though who _really_ remembers his presence)
> 
> Enjoy!

Masks of bright feathers, lace and lies acted as a secure balance between the charm and deceit of their wearers, which enhanced the brilliance of their faux finery and reminded me of many nights spent in my estate in Arlathan. The acrid stench of newly spilled blood mingled with thick, musk and incense that billowed to the rafters. Puppets and puppeteers danced, paraded and murdered in the shadows, under a full moon’s soft glow or the iridescence of a thousand candelabrum that were polished until the gold blinded the evidence into nonexistence. Leaning against a smooth marble pillar at the threshold of the Winter Palace, I felt my heart clench at the remembrance of home.

A light hand touched my shoulder to draw me from my reverie and I smiled at the painted up face of Ellana. I blinked and my jaw slipped ajar. A soft, sleeveless, blue dress hugged her slight frame as a simple waterfall that, as such, flowed outward with a gauzy, high-necked, white overdress that was woven in a pattern to resemble the mighty waves rolling over the water and past it. Her normally bound hair now fell free as soft ringlets to kiss the tips of her shoulders. I drank deep of her aroma, thrilled at how light-headed it made me and reminded me of the nights spent with her in my bed.

“Solas,” Ellana wet her bottom lip. “What are you staring at?”

I felt the blush rush to claim my cheeks and pulled my lips up a smile, “Now we both know the answer to your question, Inquisitor.”

The slender points of her ears turned scarlet and she batted her thick lashes. Her palm glided down my shoulder, tracing a path of fire and ice from the friction of our meeting. My breath hitched deep in my throat and I placed my hand over hers to gently remove it without offending her or any eyes that might be prying. I teased my fingertips along her knuckles.

“I advise against arousing me so early during the Game.” I said with a graze of my lips pressed along her hand, and eliciting a stifled moan from her.

“Inquisitor?”

Ellana’s spine shifted into a rigid position for a moment and I glanced up to see Josephine approach. Giving the Inquisitor a smile, I released her hand so she could address her Ambassador, and slid into the shadows once both of their attention was immersed with going over the night’s events.

Curious eyes followed me as people tried to assess what to make of me. I was an elf but I bore the colours of the Inquisition and carried myself without the airs of a servant. In turn, I paid them little more than a passing glance, and soon, I was forgotten when those of higher rank and prestige entered the Foyer.

“Milord?” A young elven lass with ringlets and a serving tray loaded with various champagne flutes spoke in a soft demure to gain my attention.

Reaching for one of the proffered goblets, I watched her eyes flicker to the side emphasizing, with the slight widening of her gaze, the lush fern in a gilded pot. I gave a small flourishing flick of my wrist as I grasped the delicate neck of the flute and turned from her. She gave a small dip of respect before moving on.

Bringing the glass to my lips, I sipped on the fermented, fruit infused whine. Rolling the spice along my tongue, I sighed at the warm kick the liquid delivered to my stomach and sung life into millennia tired limbs. With slow, precise steps, I backed toward a pillar near the ornate vase. A deft sweep of my fingers and a slight bend of my knee, I snatched the small, golden puzzle box indicated by the serving girl and fiddled with its catch until a crisp click loosened its locking mechanism.

The air shifted slightly on its way to me and I slid the contents into a side pocket of my breeches as I lifted my glass up to the painted couple who drew closer. They smiled behind their beaded masks in that polite, distant way that one was accustomed to do in mixed company. My pointed ears caused their hedging behaviour, while the rich trappings I wore stirred a dangerous curiosity that I would use if given the chance.

When it seemed like they would move on, boldness broke the man’s trepidation and he led his partner toward me with feigned casualness. As they approached, I dipped my head in a small motion to give them equal respect and fingered my champagne flute to complete the look of the noble, elven enigma who belonged there as much as they, before planting its flat bottom in my palm.

“Good evening to you, Ser.” The Orlesian man stopped at arm’s length and spoke in a tone dripping with as much acid as it did honey.

“A good evening to you, Ser.” I raised my glass an inch as a friendly gesture, while keeping my own mask in place despite it being made of flesh.

Beside him, his lady companion tittered in mock naivety behind a serpent’s gaze and fanned herself vigorously, “You are here with the known Inquisition, I presume. Though, I didn’t expect to see someone of such _visage_ to be among such lofty company.”

Keeping the muscles in my face relaxed and giving away nothing, I gave a polite smile. “Your words are too kind, Milady. I am humbled by your notice of me, a servant of our dear Inquisitor.”

As if announced, a raven-haired beauty in velvet and lace walked up to us; drawing the attention of many, not excluding the Orlesian couple before me. They turned–their eyes widening at Ellana’s grand image–then gave a deeper nod of respect to her than they had me. She flashed a dazzling smile to them before turning to me.

“They are about to announce us. Will you escort me, Solas?” Her musical voice warmed the cockles of my heart and I gave a flourishing bow.

“Of course, Lady Lavellan, it would be my pleasure.” I held out the crook of my elbow for her to take it and then placed my flute on the passing tray of an elven servant, making sure the folded parchment was secured and hidden on its delicate bottom. “If you both would be so kind to excuse us.”

If the Foyer was lavish in its silk and gilded trappings, it paled to the opulence of the Ballroom in the Winter Palace. Polish marble carved from a thousand hands embraced the spacious room at the start of the tiled dance floor to the rise of the intricate pillars. More figures of both the Great Game and Orlesian Aristocracy shuffled their network of pawns into place, ready to start another match of wit and vice on an elaborate chessboard to the death. Theirs were the eyes that lingered longer upon the Inquisitor, trying to root out the slightest flaw they might use for their own devices.

I gave them little more than a glance one might give to a dog, watching more the movements of the servants as they eyed the Inquisitor’s entourage while weaving trays through their patrons. When one or two of them met my eyes, we exchanged more than just a glance.

“And now presenting, Duke Gaspard de Chalons. And accompanying him Lady Inquisitor Lavellan!” Both the cousin of Empress Celene as well as Ellana gave a deep bow to the blonde woman in a mask and blue ball gown at the far end of the dance floor. Gaspard then walked forward toward the Empress while Ellana stayed back to await the introductions of the rest of the Inquisiton’s key members.

Without seeming to take a deep breath, the announcer’s booming voice continued its echo across the heads of all dignitaries. “Vanquisher of the Rebel Mages of Ferelden, crusher of the vile Apostates of the Mage Underground!”

“This guy writes better fiction than I do.” Varric muttered beside Ellana and I heard her huff back a giggle.

“He’s so full of it! That’s not how it went!” Sera hissed under her own breath, and Vivienne glowered at the Red Jenny.

“Remember to smile. This is all for show, my dear.” Her soft whisper was directed to the Inquisitor.

“Champion of the Blessed Andraste, Herself.” The man droned on and I kept a careful watch of any reaction that might pose a threat to my Ellana.

Cullen laughed in a quiet manner, “Did you see their faces? Priceless.”

Then, as if remembering that there were more with Ellana, the announcer paused to take a steady breath. “Accompanying the Inqusitor: the Lady Inquisitor’s Elven serving man, Solas. Madam Vivienne, First Enchanter of the Circle of Magi, Enchanter to the Imperial Court, Mistress of the Duke of Ghislain. The Iron Bull, leader of the famed mercenary’s company Bull’s Chargers. As the name might imply. Warden Blackwall of Val Chevin, Constable of the Grey. Bearer of the Silverite Wings of Valor. Her Ladyship Mai Bhalsych of Korse.”

At the mention of the name, Sera snickered and my lips twitched. Leave it to the girl to make a person unknowingly state such a vulgar statement, and miraculously, get away with it.

“Seeker Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena–”

“Get on with it!” The Seeker snarled and I caught the look of disdain burning in her eyes at the man.

Blackwall looked at the Seeker both impressed and with a blush to his cheeks of a man proud for the woman he loved. My eyes fell on the top of Ellana’s head knowing exactly how the Warden felt.

“…Pentaghast. Fourteenth cousin to the King of Nevarra, nine times removed. Hero of Orlais, Right Hand of the Divine. Renown Author, Varric Tethras…”

A powerful silence blanketed the room as if the man was unsure how to continue for a few minutes before he did, “Head of Noble House Tethras, Deshyr of Kirkwall to the Dwarven Merchant’s Guild. Lord Dorian Pavus, member of the Circle of Vyrantium, son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel.”

Then Cullen stepped forward as the man made acknowledged him. “Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath. Commander of the forces of the Inquisition. Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.”

The Commander made his way to stand with the rest of the Inquisition members presented before the Empress. Only Ellana and I stayed back to wait for all the introductions to finish before joining our company. Next, the ginger-haired spymaster walked with a sigh on the wind and not a sound from her boots.

“Lady Leliana, Nightingale of the Imperial Court. Veteran of the Fifth Blight. Mistress to the Queen of Ferelden. Seneschal of the Inquisition and Left Hand of the Divine.”

Last was Josephine who followed suit with automatic, practiced grace. “And Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City. Ambassador of the Inquisition.”

With a slight press of her hand into the crook of my elbow, I guided the Inquisitor across the gleaming dance floor and up the tiered platform that faced the balcony the Empress stood. Folding her gloved and jewelled hands in front of her, Empress Celene dipped her bedecked, masked face in respect to her Inquisition guests, paying particular attention to the elven mage on my arm.

Motion flickered a touch behind the Empress and I caught the steely gaze of another masked woman, but she wore exquisite finery and was an elf. Our eyes locked onto one another for a moment, long enough that we took stock in each other's aura. I pursed my lips, returning my gaze back to the Empress, but noticed the air shift and the elven woman left as quiet as she came into being. _So...that is Briala._

It was Duke Gaspard who spoke first to both the Empress and the noblewoman dressed in a cream and brown gown. “Cousin. Sister.”

Empress Celene gave him a veiled smile. “Grand Duke. We are always honoured when your presence graces our Court.”

The man shook his head, a sneer poised on his lips. “Don’t waste my time with pleasantries, Celene. We have business to conclude.”

I watched the careful mask of the Empress’ refuse to falter as she continued to address her elder cousin with soft civility. “We will meet for the negotiations after we have seen to our other guests.”

It was a clear dismissal without a hint of venom, and the Grand Duke executed his most flourished bow before excusing himself from her presence with only a whispered acknowledgement to Ellana. Empress Celene, satisfied by how the meeting ended, returned her attention to tonight’s prize; Inquisitor Ellana Lavellan.

“Lady Inquisitor, we welcome you to the Winter Palace.” Empress Celene was a practiced snake in her speech. One I watched through veiled boredom. “Allow us to present our Cousin, the Grand Duchess of Lydes, without whom this gathering would never have been possible.”

The woman dressed in cream and brown gave a respectful curtsey to us, but kept her attention and eye contact on the Empress for a moment longer before speaking. “What an unexpected pleasure. I was not aware the Inquisition would be part of our festivities. We will certainly speak later, Inquisitor.” And she excused herself.

The hostility in the Grand Duchess’ voice was palpable behind the smile and flirtatious gaze she threw Ellana. I made note to watch this woman as well throughout the night during my own meanderings.

“Your arrival at Court is like a cool wind on a summer’s day.” Empress Celene reclaimed our attention with an expression steeped in meaning.

A smile lit Inquisitor Lavellan’s lips and she spoke with confidence of steel wrapped in silk, “Let’s hope the breeze does not herald an oncoming storm.”

“Even the wisest mistake fair winds for foul. We are at the mercy of the skies, Inquisitor.” Empress Celene replied naturally. “How do you find Halamshiral?”

“I have no words to suffice. Halamshiral has many beauties, and I couldn’t do them justice.” Ellana said, and I knew she was already in the deep throes of the Great Game.

A smile ghosted across the Empress’ lips, polite with a hint of surprise, “Your modesty does you credit, and speaks well for the Inquisition. Feel free to enjoy the pleasures of the Ballroom, Inquisitor. We look forward to watching you dance.”

Even as we bowed our respects to the Empress and moved on, I could hear the double meaning in the woman’s carefully selected words. The Great Game had begun the moment we set foot in the Courtyard of the Winter Palace and I knew it would not end without the air thick in fresh blood. I would make sure that my plans passed into silent fruition before the night was through.

Guiding Ellana up the stairs, we met with Leliana who wasted no time. “Inquistior. A word, when you have a moment.”

Ellana gave me a look and I nodded, allowing her hand to slip from my crooked elbow. “I have time now, Leliana.”

I watched my love follow the Inquisition’s spymaster before slipping out of the Ballroom and back into the Foyer. An elven servant brushed past me and I pressed a scrap of parchment in their palm as I rounded the corner. Finding a marble pillar with the window facing out toward an expansive balcony, I retrieved the puzzle from my pocket and freed the parchment folded within.

**Your Messenger has failed, Agent of Fen’Harel.  
¬ Ambassador Briala ¬**


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II of Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts... Solas' POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long this took me and that it is short. Life and death continue to creep around me. I am still working on this and will try to get back into a good rhythm.
> 
> On a side note, the novel I am currently shopping around has taken a finalist position in a professional competition so I am excited. I will keep you up to date about that.
> 
> Meanwhile, please enjoy!
> 
> Ma serannas!

Crumpling up the missive, I slid my eyes from side to side. No one paid me any notice, nor did they witness my palming messages off to the other servants. If they did, I doubt I would be as alone as I was. Another servant sidled up to me with a drink tray full of a thin stemmed flutes with deep scarlet liquid sloshing up to the rim. They bowed to me and I accepted the proffered glass.

_No matter the Age, the balls are the same. As is the lethality of the Game._

I finished off the wine in one swing and walked toward the courtyard open to the guests. More masks and colours brilliant enough to blind the unsuspecting shuffled in tightly knit groups speaking with forced smiles and whispers. Many of their eyes connected with mine but dismissed just as quickly. I was an elf in their eyes, and no matter how pretty my masters made me, I was seen as such. Property.

My lips curled up in a small smile. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Ah, Solas, finally in decent attire, I see.” Dorian clucked his tongue and I caught him eyeing me from near the marble carved fountain.

When our eyes met, he wink in a way that made me shiver and try not to lose the meager food I managed to eat earlier. Though, outwardly, I softened my eyes.

“I couldn’t just parade around in _anything_ , Tevinter.” I clasped my hands behind my back and stood as if I was being inspected. “If I disgraced the Inquisitor, our Lady Ambassador would never let me have sleep again.”

The Tevinter grabbed his clean shaven chin and stroked it. His eyes twinkled in a way that matched the revulsion as the wink did. “Maybe I need to talk to Josephine about your hobo outfit then. If anyone can talk a man out of his clothing it would be her.”

I gave him a withering look. “I am not that easily swayed. Tonight is an exception. Besides, if we are to speak about clothing, it is apparent that I have yet to learn how you evade arrows wearing those colours.”

An impish look creased the corners of Dorian’s eyes and he chuckled, “I do not evade the arrows. I simply lead them in a merry chase, flashing my colourful feathers teasingly until they’re so blinded they stick into the nearest dull target. Remember that should you stand next to me.”

“Noted.” I said and excused myself to walk closer to the fountain.

Gold glittered within the shallow depths of the rippling pool as I spied coins minted with maned lion faces, blanketing the bottom of the tiled floor. I pretended to busy my mind watching the coins and floating lily pads until I was forgotten once more, even by Dorian. Then I lifted myself up the trellis behind the fountain, swung myself over the railing and landed onto the tiled balcony. My eyes scanned the gardens, noting that every noble and servant were still preoccupied with their own entertainments to notice mine.

“Masters of the Game, eh?” I shook my head and turned toward the library. I needed to make things quick before the Inquisitor got wind of my wanderings. This was as much deceiving her as it was the Orlesians, though I didn’t relish in doing so.

Tomes as ancient as their bindings, lined the floor-to-ceiling cases of hand carved wood, and would’ve captured my attention if I wasn’t under a time crunch. Soon Ellana would be done speaking with her advisors and other companions, and then she would seek out my company. I needed to be where she could find me easily.

_If Briala found my messenger, then they are dead and she knows why I accompanied the Inquisitor to the Winter Palace._

Still, she only had it half right. I intended to use that to my advantage.

Opening a side panel of the library, I froze as the stench of spoiling blood filled my nostrils. By the acrid rot alone I knew that whatever met its demise down here did so hours before my arrival, possibly sometime in the morning before the reverie started. My eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to spot the drops of blood that pooled larger and thicker the deeper I descended down the staircase.

As I passed several torches on the wall, I resisted the urge to light them and possibly alert my presence to anyone who might still be crawling in these passageways. Though the chances of any living soul to be wandering in the catacombs while the festivities were in full swing was unlikely, I couldn’t take the risk. Not when I was alone, and without the full faculties of my powers.

Bits of the stairs flaked off under my boots and my shoulders almost scraped against the stone walls. If I was human it would be downright uncomfortable squeezing, but the walls fanned out upon reaching the lowest level. Off in the distance I heard a faint tapping sound of water droplets hitting stone, and the reek from the blood was strongest here. I clamped down on my mouth to keep the bile in my throat from rising up and cupped my palm over my nose. This was fresh death, not like the dust of bodies long since decayed of skin and meat, but rancid.

I was on the right track.

My eyes fell upon the body of a young elven face now forever frozen in horror at its unseen attacker. Her body broke along the length of her spine and her once golden hair now gleamed a matted mess the color of rust. I mumbled a quick prayer before striding past her torn servant’s dress strewn a few feet from her. Flicking my wrist, the remnants of the cloth hovered up in and the air and fluttered atop her, covering her body and face in a death shroud.

“The best I can do for you.”

Overhead, I heard the crescendo of instruments and the rhythmic stomp of dancing partners. I was closing in to where the room was.

Two plumps rats scurried in front of me, squeezing their bodies in holes a size too small and I noticed the dim burn of a sconce at the end of the catacomb hallway.

_**You know this is a trap…** _

_Yes, but it must be sprung._ I replied to the Wolf.

In the back of my mind I heard the Wolf tsk but said nothing more. The hair along my arms rose the closer I drew to the lit torch and I knew who its bearer was. A shadow flickered behind the tapering fire, barely a form at all. My boots made a hollow sound that rang overhead almost as loud as the music above. It was surprising that no guards rushed to see the origin of the thudding.

“I suspected you would come yourself once you received my message, Agent of Fen’Harel.” A voice of steel wrapped in silk called out and I made out the shadow shape of an elf poised and alert. “Have the festivities bored you that much?”

“You know as well as I that I am not here for Her Majesty.” I answered back, keeping my tone calm.

As I stopped a few feet in front of the woman, her elven features came into focus. Briala dressed as the noble she was in cream and green with a silver half-mask to cover her face down to her nose. She wore a burgundy head wrapped that gathered every strand of hair that might dare to loosen from whatever technique she bound it up in originally. In the torchlight what skin was visible was soft caramel and showed a slender yet stubborn chin and eyes that bored into a person’s soul as much as my own.

For a few moments, we just stared at one another, gauging each other’s features for hidden deceptions or weaknesses. I kept my own face without any visible mask but covered up nevertheless by millennia of practice. Her eyes narrowed when she met mine again.

“Yet you risk the Inquisition by your mere presence.” Briala spoke in a cool tone no doubt meant as a trap to show feelings and hesitation.

I straightened my posture with a slight drawing back of my shoulders, but held the bored emotion I painted on my mask earlier. “If the Inquisitor cannot handle herself than that is on her own shoulders. My actions do not affect her nor she mine.”

“I guess we shall see before the night is done then.” She half turned intending to go back the way she came then looked at me over her shoulder and gestured for me to follow.  
Grabbing up her torch, she slipped up the staircase and I took steps to keep our distance at a healthy balance. This castle was more hers than mine, and I knew that she carried the upper hand in our little game.

“I admire you a bit. You are an elf who has not forgotten the old ways or his people.” She spoke barely above a whisper, her voice remained forged steel. “You risk those who are disposable for the needs of our race, and more importantly, you met with me face to face and didn’t flinch. If I were in your place, I do not know if I could do the same.”

“You already have, Ambassador.” I answered back.

Briala paused in mid step for a second, long enough for me to notice, before she climbed upward. “Indeed.”

As we ascended the décor changed from death and darkness to sterile stone, until we were face to face with a stone wall. Without hesitation, Briala pressed her palm upon its middle. It groaned from the slightest pressure and swayed outward to reveal the lavish room beyond. White marble lined the walls and many of the pillars with gold gilded lions standing as sentinels on either side of the room’s interior doors. Red silks and velvets draped as curtains around the massive bed that was more pillows than actual mattress, as well as framing the windows that were just shy of reaching from floor to ceiling.

At the center window, Briala stopped and stared out at the burgeoning moon in the star blanketed, night sky. She tucked her arms under her breasts, pushing them upward and cocked her head to one side in thought. Keeping the healthy distance, I studied all the small movements that rippled over her body. Her poise was that of a cornered tiger and I the hunter, and yet, at times, she shifted her stance and I thought myself the one snared. The final decision would take mere seconds to process so I _needed_ to be ready.

Then she breathed in deeply. “You are a strange one, Agent of Fen’Harel. You wait to attack me, and don’t know if I have foreseen this and prepared.”

I quirked one eyebrow, “you assume I am not prepared myself. When one enters the serpent’s nest willingly, one must always be aware of its hatchlings.”

Briala turned and regarded me with cool intrigue, “Indeed. Tell me, why did you send someone to take hold of my Eluvian instead of coming yourself?”

My lips twitched in amusement. “You know that answer already or you wouldn’t send your own servants to enact your plan tonight, which is better suited for your hands alone.”  
“Yet they have failed and now you come.” Briala shrugged, “I could kill you.”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t get answers to the questions burning behind those eyes.” I said without hesitation or emotion.

_**Her lust builds…she wants to kill, but she wants to torture you more.** _

_Exactly what I’m expecting._

“It seems we are at an impasse then. I will not give up the Eluvian, and I suspect you will not give me answers.”

“I careless about the Eluvian than your connection to part of The Crossroads.”

Briala’s eyes narrowed and she took a step back, pressing against the window. Her masked composure broke plainly through her beaded mask. This was my opportunity and I took a determined step toward her.

“Let’s play a game in which the winner gets the Eluvian.”

The Wolf hissed in the back of my mind, chuckling as the springs in my trap wound tighter, coiling around the clueless elf. I had to hand it to Briala, she was not one to dismiss her curiosity about our origins. But she was out of league against me; she wasn’t aware of it yet.

“What if I refuse?” Briala asked, her steeled will fell back into place along her facial features.

_Snap!_

This time, I allowed a smile to draw up my lips and the shadows in the room darkened. “The game already began back in the catacombs when we met face to face.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part III: Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hands...Solas POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been months since I last uploaded. I do sincerely owe an apology to all my readers. Aside from dealing with my health, have been working with my Editor on my original fiction.
> 
> I pitched it to a high-end agent and he is very interested, therefore, I turned much of my attention to my original fiction. However, I am still not finished with Lathbora Viran.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Ambassador Briala came swishing in the darkened room in her cream and green dress.

Our eyes met with a brief spark of recognition but then the elven ambassador’s gaze clouded over and she dismissed me as the servant I was to her. Instead, her scheming bore deep into the Inquisitor at my side.

“Inquisitor Lavellan,” she strode with natural grace and confidence toward the open balcony not bothered by the acrid copper smell in the air nor the cooling bodies sprawling on the carpet. “Slumming in the servants’ quarters with the rest of your people… for once.”

My lips quirked along the corners at the smug tone in Briala’s voice, and the inside pocket of my imperial jacket burned from the elven symbol I now carried. Still it beckoned for its former mistress, but my spell silenced it.

As for my dear Ellana, the Inquisitor just straightened to her full height and authority, neither her own masked expression faltered nor crumbled into submission before the graceful Ambassador. Such was the Game and I fancied watching my lover masterfully outmanoeuvre a veteran at it.

“We haven’t been properly introduce yet, have we?” The elven ambassador spoke with a smooth bow to show respect, not taking her eyes off the Inquisitor. “I am Ambassador Briala.”

“I’m glad to meet you finally, Ambassador.”

“Your reputation for getting results is well deserved.” Briala spoke with a nod then turned and walked up the balcony steps and into the night. She expected us to follow and so we did.

“You cleaned this place out. It will take a month to get all the Tevinter blood off the marble. I came down to save or avenge my missing people but you’ve beaten me to it.”

Then she turned to address the Inquisitor once again, the moonlight haloing her entire being in a haunting light. If it were not for the Veil, I’d almost think she a spirit like Cole and certainly capable of more unsavoury magic than the Magisters of Tevinter admitted to casting. It brought me back to the duel we ended just half an hour prior, but I dismissed the remnants of unneeded whimsy. Though I relished my Vhenan standing proud against her would be adversary.

**_Such intrigue is what makes the Game worth playing._ ** __

_Indeed._ I grinned at the Wolf and flanked the Inquisitor with the tips of my fingers playing along the wood grain of my staff ready in case the need to use it arose.

“So, the Council of Herald’s emissary in the courtyard,” Briala stalked Inquisitor Lavellan with every ounce the viper she was, “that’s not your work, is it?”

I watched the light pass between the two elven lasses as if it was solid as glass being pressed upon. As if it waited for one of them to shatter it. The thrill sent the fire in my veins aflame.

“He was dead when I arrived.” Ellana said, cordial but still guarded, and she offered a simple smile to the Ambassador.

Briala nodded her head slightly. “I expected as much. You may have arrived with the Grand Duke but you don’t seem to be doing his dirty work. I knew he was smuggling his Chevaliers but killing a Council emissary, bringing Tevinter assassins into the Palace…those are desperate acts. Gaspard must be planning to strike tonight.”

Leveled accusations on the Inquisitor veiled and wrapped around inviting familiarity. Briala held a silvered tongue and while both Dorian and Blackwall stood tense against the Ambassador’s words–fingers twitching on the weapons at their sides–I allowed my body to soften and lean against a marble pillar.

**_She fascinates you, Fen’Harel, your lady. I can feel the exquisite burning between your legs…never took you for a rutter._ **

Inwardly, I curled my lips displaying snarling fangs, though not even a tick sparked on my face. The Wolf’s brutish way to describe mating was most vulgar. _Those who ‘rut’ as you would call it do not begin to understand the intricate dance that is mating. No, I am not a rutter._

The creature was right about my lust, however, I would not give him the satisfaction of voicing such thoughts. Bad enough that Wolf was always present during such passionate nights, and experienced all _our_ feelings as if it were solely his.

I focused my thoughts back on my Inquisitor.

“I misjudged you Inquisitor.” Briala finally relaxed and uncrossed her arms. “You might just be an ally worth having. What could you do with an army of elven spies at your disposal? You should think about it.”

A small snort left my lips but neither heard and I stared out toward the night as if bored of the conversation. Did Briala even know how many of her spies were mine?

“What do I have to give you in exchange for this army of spies?” Ellana asked with a nonchalance that placed her somewhere between bored and intrigued. Of course the Inquisitor couldn’t allow the Ambassador believe she somehow won favour with the Inquisition.

I wanted to tell her that she already had any spy she wanted under her command but that was a lie. They were under mine and followed Ellana simple because I needed them in the folds of the Inquisition. To voice such was to unravel plans I was not willing to part with.

“Help me, help our people. I know which way the wind is blowing. I bet coin that you’ll be part of the peace talks before the night is over.” Briala gave a smug smile and coy shrug. “And if you happen to lean a bit our way…it…could prove advantageous for us both. Just a thought.”

With that Ambassador Briala slipped down the parapet and disappeared into the shadows of gilded balconies and night.

 

**. . .**

 

Getting back to the ballroom was easier than winding our way through the endless corridors of lavish secrets and assassins. We even made it before the second bell tolled and Dorian helped smooth out the snarls in Ellana’s hair. I chuckled as she scrunched her nose and tried half-heartedly to fight against the Tevinter’s plucking. It was a losing battle and she knew it. The man was almost as bad as Ambassador Josephine.

Once the blood smears were rubbed off and stray locks tucked into the main braid the Inquisitor wore down her back, Dorian announced her resplendent and deftly swept the grand door to the side letting Ellana through.

“Inquisitor Lavellan.” Duchess Florianne’s greeting caused Ellana to turn and the royal delivered a flattering smile. “We met briefly. I am Grand Duchess Florianne de Chalons. Welcome to my party.”

My ear tips twitched at the smug tone in her voice and I held back a laugh. _So…this is…_ the Inquisitor’s voice cut off my tone.

“Is there something I can do for you, Your Grace?”

“Indeed you can.” The Duchess took a step backwards. “I believe you and I are both concerned about the actions of…a certain person.”

I watched as the Inquisitor followed this viper dressed in another lavish ballgown to the top of the staircase.

“Come, dance with me. Spies will not hear us on the dance floor.”

Though the Grand Duchess waited for an answer from Ellana I knew that it was no request.

The Inquisitor smiled coyly and gave a small nod. “Very well, shall we dance, Your Grace?”

“I would be delighted.” The Duchess cast a smug glance at me before taking the stairs down to the dance floor full of elegance and fools.

I kept my annoyance at bay and leaned against the railing when both women began their dance. My gaze settled on how the Inquisitor swayed.

Flashbacks plagued my mind of the night we first met. The grace that she summoned up as she fought the Pride Demon to seal the Breach. A smile played along her lips instead of terror, but the determination still lit a fire in her eyes. The Duchess was not a Pride Demon, but that did not make her a potential enemy.

Her lips formed words that I could not hear, and my heart beat escalated remembering our first kiss, our first touch of intimacy. All around me the crowds stared at her, and though I felt eyes also upon my person, I gave my attention solely to the Inquisitor. With every dip and sway, every swish of satin and silk, my body twitched and my heart leapt.  
In that moment, if Ellana were to ask me to dance, ask me to give up any secrets, I don’t think I’d have the words to lie to her. That was a danger that I had no strength to fight.  
It was the applause that broke the spell and allowed me to turn away from the haunting elf. As I drew my mask in place, I felt the doldrums of my heart against my ribs, rapping hard enough that it might’ve separate from my body.

Varric stood in front of me with that _fenedhis_ grin on his face. “Why Chuckles…I wasn’t aware–”

I brushed past him and Dorian before he could finish whatever hateful comment I knew would ooze from him. I needed air and to collect my focus to the night’s events. Too much was coming together nicely to have it spoiled by conspicuous displays of affection.

Situating my back against the pillar that I previously stood at and took the goblet of proffered wine. The cool draft of the open balcony touched feather-light along my cheeks, calming the thunderous ache from my heart. I breathed deep the perfumed air and closed my eyes.

**_You walk a dangerous line._ ** __

_I know._

_**It will ruin everything.** _

_I disagree._

“Solas?”

Opening my eyes, I met Ellana’s and gave a small twitch of my lips in greeting. She wore a pensive frown I gathered she attained when she didn’t find me at the top of the stairs after her dance with the Duchess. I resolved not to dwell on my sudden departure. The conversation needed a turn.

“I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger and sex that permeates these events.” I said, speaking first to drive any of her questions on a smoother path.

Her eyes widened at the statement, lifting the frown into a small smile at the corners of her lips. “You seem more comfortable with the Grand Orlesian Ball than I’d have expected.”

I breathed the tension out of my body pleased that, for now, more pressing questions had been diverted. “I have seen countless such displays in my journeys in the Fade. The powerful have always been the same. Only the costumes change.”

**_You’re a natural at this._ **

I ignored the damn beast and concentrated on formulating whatever answer was needed for her next question.

“Have you seen anything useful?” Ellana took a step closer but not close enough to drawn unnecessary attention.

 _Aside from the Briala situation._ I finished the unspoken question to myself. During the Game, no cards could be revealed and that person live past the night. Though, the Orlesians were very lousy at playing the Game effectively. Too many scandals, secrets and threats flowed with the addition of strong wine and indulgence.

“No, sadly.” I lied. “I do not have the look of elven servants or I might well be invisible. I wonder how masked men live their lives without ever seeing that servants have an entire society of their own. If you want to find something useful, I would pay attention to what the servants do.”

Ellana’s brow rose up at the answer and her lips quirked in an expression between frown and smile. “Have you encountered any trouble with the nobles?”

I sipped on my wine and shook my head. “The Orlesians do not quite know what to make of me. I have kept to myself for fear of giving them some purchase to cling to. The food and drink are excellent, however, and the servants have been happy to refill my glass.”

If any of the cock-strutting nobles actually paid much attention to my comings and goings, they weren’t long in my presence. I doubt many would miss them, however, as these balls had a tendency to end bloody. Raising my glass to the light, I pretended to examine the red liquid swishing from side to side. Ellana raised her gaze for a brief moment in curiosity but stilled whatever question she might ask. With a precise movement, I moved my pinkie finger from side to side, barely clinking the goblet, and then brought it to my lips to take another sip.

The elven servant who had been watching, dipped his head in a slight nod then slipped into the shadows.

I stared inside the goblet and let out a sigh. “Definitely a fine wine, and an exquisite colour. Did you see how the light reflected from it?”

Ellana pinched her nose in a small smile and shook her head. “Your travels in the Fade have taught you a great deal of knowledge. One day I hope to learn what you know.”  
“One day I will teach you provided you still wish to learn after these events pass.” I said with a laugh.

Her gaze softened and she closed enough distance between us to touch my arm. My heart stirred and I felt the blend of wine and the night’s events clash together in a dizzying array of suffocating feelings.

“Do you have any interest in dancing?” Ellana asked in a tender whisper meant only for me to hear.

My thoughts relived her dancing with the Duchess but I stiffened the mask into place to hide that jealousy. “A great deal. Although dancing with an elven apostate win you few favours with the Court. Perhaps once our business here is done.”

The way her fingertips lingered on my arm gave me pause. Would she pry into the answers for the questions smoldering behind her gaze? Could I come up with the appropriate lies in such an immediate span of time?

**_You allowed too much of yourself to show this night, Fen’Harel._ ** __

_I know._

_**The Inquisitor will use it to her advantage and ruin your plans.** _

_I disagree._

Ellana squeezed my arm drawing me back to the present. “I’ll be back later. I need to mingle some more.”

A smile laced my lips and I gave her a nod. “Hunt well.”

As she turned and left toward the grand ballroom, I watched her; my eyes never missed a step, nor did my heart. Once she was out of sight, I set down my glass and slipped into the shadows after the servant.

**Author's Note:**

> Elvish Translation:
> 
> Unthenera - Immortal Sleep of the Elvhen people
> 
> Din'anshiral - Death Journey
> 
> Lathbora viran - Rough translation "the path to a place of lost love" or a longing for a thing one can never really know.


End file.
